


til slutt så er du helt alene

by panshambles



Series: Minutt for minutt [1]
Category: SKAM (Norway), SKAM (TV)
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Related, Depression, Depressive Episode, Drinking, Even POV, Even is very into Isak's thighs and ass lbr, Eventual Smut, Explicit scenes start in Chapters 7/8, Friends to Lovers, Isak and Even meet in Chapter 3, M/M, Mention of Suicide Attempt, Mikael is NB, Misgendering, Mutual Pining, Non-binary character, POV Even Bech Næsheim, Party, References to Depression, Slurs, Smoking, The boys are vers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-18 08:07:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 112,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13677684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panshambles/pseuds/panshambles
Summary: Even just wants to get through his third year and graduate.  Then he meets Isak.He's just transferred to Nissen, but: (1) He's still friends with the balloon squad, and (2) he hasn't been diagnosed with bipolar.Or, a fic from Even's POV where one small change spins off from canon into a different story.





	1. Kick ass, today. I know you can.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is an attempt to see things from Even's POV, with some key changes to keep things interesting in this parallel universe. Isak is much more comfortable in himself, though not yet out. Even is a little more self-doubting than canon. And they are, of course, endgame.
> 
> In this fic, pretty much all our beloved characters appear (except Willhelm and BoyChris because i just can't even), and there will be chapters where difficult topics are broached (misgendering, slurs, mental health issues, explicit content) which I'll put in the tags, and in the beginning-notes for anyone who wants advance warning.
> 
> It's also my first ever fic, so any feedback is welcome. Talk to me on Twitter (@panshambles) though my account is private, but add me and I'll follow you back; or on tumblr (mseadaoin).
> 
> I've made an open Spotify playlist for this fic here - https://open.spotify.com/user/eadaoin12/playlist/0jU3BaKBNVF5ZfVeuC5izg?si=pZcwszM9QNmrt-eEVToZpA
> 
> \--
> 
> Translations of Norwegian words used:
> 
> Halla/Hei – informal ‘hello’/’how are you’
> 
> kosegruppe – a ‘revue’ group, in which students run extracurricular events in baking, spreading love, being cosy, offering a warm and affectionate atmosphere
> 
> russ/russetiden/russefeiring – ‘russ celebration’ is a traditional celebration for Norwegian high school students in their final spring semester. Students that take part in the celebrations are known as russ. The russefeiring traditionally starts on around 20 April and ends on 17 May, the Norwegian Constitution day. Participants wear coloured overalls, they make groups and name a bus, car or van and celebrate almost continually during this period. Students who buy a bus party in this bus the entire night until school every day from the start to 17 May. Drunkenness and public disturbances are regularly linked to the celebration.
> 
> Herregud – ‘Oh my god’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even's first day at Nissen. Featuring KB with Sana, the hot guy in the schoolyard, Vilde's plans for kosegruppe, a stilted meeting with the principal, and his first Norwegian class.

 

Late August, and the streets of Oslo were busy with traffic, as Even walked to the bus in Københavngata and hopped on the 21. The summer was ebbing out, the early morning sun-rays glancing off the windows and casting oblique frames of light across the pavement. He sat down in a window seat, closed his eyes in glare of sun, and turned down the volume on his headphones so the old lady behind him didn’t overhear Nas’s loud bass line.

 

He wasn’t used to commuting to school. Elvebakken—or, Bakka—was only a twenty minute walk through one of Even’s favourite parts of the city, Grünerløkka, and he could stop by Tim Wendelboe’s coffee house on the way to get something to go.

 

If he left early, sometimes he sat in Anker Park, in the shadow of the school campus, next to the Aker river, and enjoyed watching the slow-moving water ambling by.

 

That was one of his favourite things about going to Bakka—the fact that it was just the other side of the river, right in the centre of the city, and still had this little oasis of peace on its doorstep.

 

But this day, his first day of his (second try at) third year, he was on a bus, squeezing his bouncy ball in his left hand, while he half-listened to  ‘The Message.’ He’d never been to Nissen before, never known anyone there—except Sana, his close friend Elias’s younger sister—and he was about to walk right into a bigger, equally posh, but with old money, high school, in the affluent West End of the city, and do his third year of high school all over again.

 

As much as he wanted to be hopeful and positive, following the advice of his counsellor-slash-proxy-grandmother Åse, he couldn’t help but feel overwhelming dread. A new start meant a fresh slate, yes, in all the comforts those clichés provided, but it also meant having to fight the same fights all over again with people he didn’t know.

 

He took a deep breath and tried to focus. If he could manage to get through the year without another depressive episode, without his ADHD flying out of control, and without his anxiety overwhelming him, no one had to know.

 

No one would get the chance to find out.

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a new message from Mikael.

 

 _Hey—I know today’s going to be rough._  
_But, you know the guys and I are rooting_  
_for you. We’re planning on heading to the_  
_Bakkoush’s later and helping Elias out with_  
_his YouTube channel  if you wanna come_  
_by after school? Chill if you wanna just_  
_go home, too. X_

Even smiled down at his phone. Mikael had had a rough go of it that year, too. They came out as non-binary just a few months before, and while the whole Bakka squad—Even, Elias, Yousef, Adam and Mutta—rallied around them, their family was less accepting. That was one thing Even and Mikael could commiserate on.

 

 _Thanks. Appreciate it. I’m meeting Sana_  
_at Kaffebrenneriet before I walk into_  
_the lion’s den, so it’s not so bad._  
_I’ll let you know if I can make it. X_

 

Immediately, he got another response.

 

 _Are you wearing the denim jacket and_  
_the skinny dark jeans? I already know_  
_you’ve got the coiffed hair thing going on,_  
_so I’m just imagining the whole look._  
_It’ll help give context for the string of_  
_girls and boys following you around with_  
_their mouths open. X_

Even huffed out a quiet laugh. He and Mikael had come a long way since their awkward kiss on his 19th birthday, featuring Even’s impulsive interest in what it was like to kiss someone who wasn’t a girl, Mikael’s shocked terror at Even’s tongue in their mouth, and three weeks of silence that followed—until Elias got sick of both of them tiptoeing around each other, and forced them into the Bakkoush hallway closet so they had no choice but to talk.

 

Elias’ intervention methods also meant that when Even and Mikael finally emerged as friends, and explained to the rest of the guys what had happened, Mutta could yell happily, ‘Hey! Even, you’re finally out of the closet!’

 

 _/Of course/ I’m wearing the denim_  
_jacket and the skinny dark jeans._  
_It’s this, or sweatpants, or my H &M suit._  
_And the suit is only for weddings or funerals, so_

 

Even had to cut his message short as he realised the bus was already at his stop. He hopped out, and walked straight down Skovveien, stealing a glance as he passed Meltzers gate on his right.

 

At the end of it, he could just make out a corner of Nissen, his new high school, its classical red brick corners and arched windows striking a distinct contrast from the severe concrete-and-glass façade of Bakka’s main buildings.

 

He kept walking, heading straight for the KB where Sana asked him to meet her. She had originally joked that they’d have to go to Tim Wendelboe’s, ‘seeing as you Bakka boys can only drink hand-picked coffee beans roasted on berries and harmony from Chile.’ While he had teased that it’d be more convenient for him anyway, seeing as that was much closer to his house, he couldn’t bear the thought of running into someone from Bakka with far too many questions.

 

He spotted KB’s brown awnings and stepped into the café, where he saw Sana idling by the coffee machine, chatting to one of the baristas. She looked effortlessly cool, with her long black hijab, aviator sunglasses, and rich plum lipstick. Even couldn’t help but smile once he saw her; he’d always liked Sana. It was hard not to.

 

‘Halla!’ he said, as Sana turned to him and wrapped him in a big hug.

 

‘Halla,’ she replied, ‘Glad you managed to find your way out of Løkka. It’s like a whole new world over here, right?’

 

Even rolled his eyes. ‘I have _been_ to Frogner before. Your house is like 15 minutes from here.’

 

‘Doesn’t count.’ She winked at him, as the barista called out her name and handed over two cups.

 

The two walked out of KB, back into the autumn sunshine.

 

‘You didn’t have to get mine! I was gonna buy yours,’ Even said, feeling bad that he’d been a bit too late.

 

‘Next time,’ Sana shrugged, and pushed the cup into his hand. ‘It’s not the kind of premium calibre liquid dreams you’re used to, but it’ll have to do.’

 

Even smiled again and put his hand on Sana’s arm. ‘Thank you.’ He hoped she knew what he meant was about much more than just the coffee. But when he saw her responding smile and nod, he felt sure she did.

 

As they walked side by side towards Nissen, Even tried to listen to Sana’s preamble about the girl squad and her warnings about Vilde being a little intense, but all he could think about was how desperately he wanted to just fade into the background, keep his head down, keep up acceptable grades, and just _graduate_ _on time_.

 

As much as he loved his Bakka friends it was hard to be updated on their progress and success, knowing that if he hadn’t been such a fuck-up, he might have been in the same place as them, rather than a whole year—and what felt like a lifetime—behind.

 

They rounded the corner into the schoolyard and at once, running towards them, were four girls. Even had briefly met Chris before at the Bakkoush house, where she had seductively sucked on a spoon for ten minutes while maintaining intense eye contact, so he recognised her first. Luckily, this day, she didn’t have any props, so she pursed her lips and looked him up and down suggestively while he tried to keep a neutral facial expression. Sana turned him to the brunette girl on her left.

 

‘This is Eva. She’s from Bergen, that’s why she sounds so weird,’ Sana added with a smirk. ‘And she’s running kosegruppe with me and Vilde.’ Sana gestured to the blonde girl next to Eva, who let out a high-pitched ‘Hei!’ and interrupted Sana to say, ‘You’re far too tall and handsome to be a first year. Are you a new transfer?’

 

Even reeled off the brief answer he’d prepared. ‘Yeah, I transferred from Bakka. I’m in 3STB.’

 

Vilde’s eyes widened and she glanced at Eva. ‘Oh my god you’re in third year. Does that—does that mean you’re 18?’

 

 _19, actually_ , Even thought, but that required an explanation. ‘Yeah,’ he said, with practiced nonchalance.

 

‘This is fantastic,’ Vilde barrelled on. ‘If you join kosegruppe with us, which you absolutely have to, you can buy the alcohol for our parties! We’ll pay you back, of course, it’s just—we’ve had to rely on Eskild, Noora’s ex-housemate she used to live with before she moved in with William, but Eskild works a lot, and it’s easier if you could do it, that way we wouldn’t have to go to _William_ as a backup. Not that that’s bad,’ Vilde added hurriedly, glancing at the other blonde girl who Even apprehended was Noora.

She frowned at Vilde’s tone, but Vilde quickly continued, ‘William’s just preparing to go to London and once he does finally get gone we won’t have that backup anymore, either, and—’

 

Sana put her hand on Vilde’s shoulder. ‘Maybe we can talk about this another time. Even literally just got here.’ Even glanced around the group and noticed Noora’s eyes cast down, while Eva smoothed a hand up and down her back.

 

Vilde looked around, too, and noticed Noora’s discomfort. ‘Oh, right. Of course.’

 

‘So, Even—’ she rounded again, with a big grin, ‘you went to Bakka? Why would you transfer in your last year? Are you not going to miss out on your _russetiden_? Oh! Can you be _russ_ in two places at the same time? I hadn’t even realised—’

 

‘Vilde!’ Sana chastised again, as gently as she could. ‘One question at a time?’

 

Even laughed and waved a hand off, ‘It’s ok. Yeah, I transferred in my last year, but I’m not a _russ_ , don’t worry. I can join kosegruppe, Sana’s already told me about it, I just don’t know yet how much free time I’ll have.’

 

‘How do you even know Sana?’ asked Vilde with a frown. ‘She never mentioned you before.’

 

‘We just met in KB,’ Sana replied quickly, ‘He almost dropped his coffee on me so he bought me mine. And then I found out he’s new, so I figured we could help him settle in.’

 

Even himself almost believed her. But he couldn’t believe she was already covering for him. He was prepared to tell them about Elias, and his other friends, and why they graduated already, and therefore why he was a total failure, but Sana had stepped in and erased all need for it. His heart swelled as he gently touched her shoulder in silent thanks.

 

‘How lucky!’ cried Vilde, ‘We get to bag the hottest third year—who can buy us alcohol—because Sana was in the right place at the right time. This is amazing. Oh, I’m so excited.’

 

The girls start to talk happily about their summer: Eva stayed with family in Bergen for a few months after she and Jonas (whoever that was) broke up, Noora moved in with William (whose plans to move to London were apparently putting a strain on their relationship), and Vilde and Chris started hip hop dancing classes (because the instructor was apparently ‘hot as fuck’).

 

Even politely listened in until his attention inevitably wandered. He had to go to the principal’s office and introduce himself before he went to his first class—Norwegian—where they were reading Ibsen’s _Doll’s House._ His anxiety started to creep up already as the schoolyard teemed with more and more students, and he suddenly tried to remember if he’d taken his Klonopin that morning or just the Zoloft. Maybe he had some in his rucksack.

 

 _Fuck it,_ he thought, _even if I don’t, I could live without it one day, surely._

 

Then he heard Vilde talking about some cute first year boys that had just rounded the corner, and his attention piqued.

 

‘Which boys, Vilde?’

 

She stopped her monologue to look at him confusedly, before nodding over to the corner of the yard where a group of guys stood around, looking like they’d just walked off a runway. ‘The blonde one is Danish,’ she explained, ‘Ingrid met him at a Handels party on Friday. He moved here from Copenhagen over the summer. _Really_ rich.’

 

‘Yeah he’s cute,’ Even agreed. A little too preppy for Even’s taste, but his musings were interrupted by Vilde’s shriek, ‘Oh my god are you gay?’

 

Noora elbowed her in the side. ‘Vilde, that’s really rude. You can’t just ask someone what their sexual preference is.’

 

Chris grinned widely, looked at Eva, who had raised her eyebrows at Vilde’s outburst, while Sana looked distinctly unimpressed.

 

‘No, Vilde,’ Even offered, ‘I’m pan.’

 

Vilde’s brow furrowed as she glanced at Eva. ‘What’s … pan?’

 

Chris stepped in and readjusted her snapback, which Even noticed was baby pink and had the English word ‘Bitch’ written across it in silver glitter. ‘Pan is when you like both,’ she said.

 

Eva sighed and shook her head. ‘No, that’s bi. Like me.’

 

Noora glanced up and gave Eva a small smile, which she returned. Even saw a blush on Noora’s cheeks as Eva wrapped an arm around her waist and whispered something only Noora could hear. He wondered if that brief interaction had anything to do with the problems between Noora and William.

 

‘Wait, so what’s pan? Pan is when you like both, too, no?’ Chris asked.

 

Sana put her hand up to signal for everyone’s silence. ‘Maybe let Even speak for himself?’

 

Even gave his customary explanation—which didn’t work as well as usual, as Vilde seemed confused about there being more than two genders—but Eva stepped in once Vilde’s questioning became too much.

 

‘ _Herregud_ , Vilde, just Google this stuff, would you?’ Eva said, exasperated, ‘You know Mahdi’s pan, aswell. He came out to Jonas and the boys over the summer.’

 

‘He _did_?’ Vilde cried, ‘you didn’t tell me that!’

 

Eva rolled her eyes, and Noora smiled up at her again, placing her arm around Eva’s waist and squeezing slightly. Even saw how Noora’s eyes stayed a little too long on Eva, and he was sure that William would be out of the picture soon. What was odd was how no one else seemed to notice.

 

Vilde had, in the meantime, redirected her attention to the Dane. ‘Maybe we could get him to come to kosegruppe, it would be _so_ useful, seeing as his friends are pretty hot, too…’

 

While she spoke, Even glanced around the schoolyard, knowing he’d have to leave soon for the principal’s office. He hated that he was psyching himself out by looking around at all these strange faces, all seemingly at ease, naturally belonging there. _Because they do. I’m the one who doesn’t._

 

Then his eyes stopped on a boy, a boy laughing with his friends. He had curly blonde hair sneaking out from under his grey hoodie, he was wearing dark skinny jeans. And he was now rolling his eyes at the guy closest to him, with unruly dark curls and thick eyebrows, who continued whatever story had made the boy laugh in the first place.

 

Even swiftly felt that stir of interest, that constricting pang of excitement he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. It probably meant nothing, he told himself. So it’s a hot guy, so what.

 

But then the boy laughed again, and Even noticed how he threw his head back, how his cheeks dimpled, how his laugh revealed his cute smile.

 

 _He’s not just cute. He’s cute and hot. He’s hot as_ _fuck_. _Fuck._

_I hope he’s not in any of my classes. I hope he’s in every single one of my classes._

 

‘Who are you staring at?’ asked Sana.

 

‘Uh, no one. Just zoned out. Sorry. Vilde, you were saying…?’

 

Vilde perked up immediately. ‘Yeah! The kosegruppe meeting is on Friday. It starts at 19, and we’ll be doing love exercises so that…’

 

Even nodded his head along, but when he looked at his watch, he realised he had to go see the principal, finally.

 

‘Sorry, girls, I have to head in. It was lovely to meet you,’ Even said, as he waved a hand and started to walk away.

 

‘It’s just through those doors, through the hallway, then down to your left,’ Sana whispered so only Even could hear. He nodded and smiled at her. She was going to be his rock this year, he could already tell.

 

‘Hate to see you leave,’ Chris yelled, ‘but love to watch you go!’

 

Even laughed and saluted her as he stepped backwards, before turning towards the imposing façade of the school. As he walked up to the school doors, he couldn’t help but steal a glance to his left, to see if that boy was still there.

 

He was, and he was perched on a bike rack while the blonde guy on his right gestured wildly, and the other two boys put their hands over their eyes in what looked like second-hand embarrassment. Even noticed the boy was wearing a Public Enemy t-shirt under his hoodie, and he made a note to listen to them after school.

 

Just then his phone buzzed again, with another text from Mikael.

 

 _True, but the suit looks damn good, too._  
_It would’ve been a solid alternative._  
_Though the Nissen kids might never_  
_recover._  
_Kick ass, today. I know you can. x_

Even’s heart lifted as he put his phone on silent, made his way through the hallways as per Sana’s instructions, and then knocked on the principal’s door.

 

‘Come in,’ she barked.

 

The meeting was short, which was a blessing, because it was also stilted and awkward. She quickly ran through his timetable for the rest of the week, told him of the absence limit (10%), warned him off messing up his grades with _russefeiring_ , and then abruptly confronted him about his mental health.

 

‘Your parents mentioned the reason why you had to transfer out of Bakka,’ she stated, coldly.

 

‘Ok,’ Even replied.

 

There was a long pause before the principal continued.

 

‘I assume you’re taking the necessary medication, and going to counselling, and sticking to a routine, so that you don’t run into the same problems again.’

 

Even squirmed in his seat and tried to balance out his humiliation with his anger at being reduced to this. ‘Yes,’ he answered, as politely as he could.

 

‘Because we have a reputation to uphold,’ she said, with a pause in which she eyed him intently, ‘and you can’t afford to miss any more opportunities.’

 

He nodded and clenched his jaw. ‘I know.’

 

‘Good, then we’re clear. No _russefeiring_ , no drinking, no partying, no absences, and _no more incidents_.’ She tidied the file of papers in front of her—his grade sheets and student profile from Bakka—and cleared her throat. ‘We’re done. You can run along to your first class. I hope this is the first and last time we have to discuss this. OK?’

 

Even hastily grabbed his rucksack and left her office with a distinct sense of relief. While he was furious that she treated his depression and ADHD as if they were weaknesses he chose to succumb to, he was also somewhat unsurprised. And also very late.

 

He knocked on the door to Fru Haugen’s room with tense nerves.

 

‘Ja?’ she yelled from the other side, ‘Come in.’

 

He stepped inside and saw a room of about twenty students look up at him with varying expressions of confusion, hostility, and vague indifference. Fru Haugen sized him up and said, ‘Ah. Our new transfer? Bech Næsheim?’

 

He nodded and shrugged off his rucksack. ‘Yeah, Even.’

 

‘Ok, Even, there’s a seat at the back for you. Now, back to _Doll’s House_ …’

 

Even settled in the far corner and took out his well-worn copy, already replete with scribbles from the same class he sat in a year before.

 

_Gender norms._

_Sacrificial role of women._

_Appearance v. reality._

_Integrity of family unit._

 

‘As you know, the final scene of the play sees Nora leave her husband and children and choose an independent life,’ Fru Haugen read out from her notes, ‘free of the constraints of her parental and wifely obligations. This is the primary reason the play has remained so controversial. One critic claimed, ‘”That slammed door reverberated across the roof of the world.” The taboo of subverting convention made the play a shocking revelation especially within a conservative cultural context.’

 

Even smiled and took out his pen, remembering how much he liked the play, and hoped he could prove to have a screed of Nora’s courage.


	2. I'm Even. I'm fucked up in the head.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even's survived his first week at Nissen, and has his counselling session coming up. He plans a distraction with Mikael. Featuring a lot of weed, shotgunning, confessions, self-doubt, a bad comedown, and Even's late night wanderings in Oslo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: A lot of discussion of meds—Zoloft and Klonopin—and their side effects, especially when combined with weed. Mentions of suicide attempts. Shotgunning. Also, misgendering of Mikael occurs. Use of the word ‘fag’ and ‘psycho’ as a slur. Self-directed self-loathing and ableist thoughts. Use of the word ‘queer’ by LGBT+ characters.
> 
> (Translations of Norwegian/Arabic words in end notes)

Saturday.

 

Even lay on his bed, already emotionally drained ahead of his counselling session with Åse. He’d woken up at 4 and hadn’t been able to go back to sleep.

 

Now, at 9,30, he was showered and fully dressed after a quick run around Løkka, and two hours spent idling on the internet. He was down, but not depressed. He could still get up and do things, he just felt overwhelmed by the prospect of the work ahead of him.

 

He’d taken his Klonopin and Zoloft that morning with a grimace. The last six months were difficult for how badly Even had reacted to the new combined prescription: first he’d had heightened anxiety, then drowsiness, and the few hours he managed to stay awake, he felt dizzy and disorientated. Åse had started him off on 50mg of Zoloft and 3.1mg of Klonopin, but upped it to 150mg of Zoloft and decreased the Klonopin to 2.1mg, after three months of his body being torn between deep, apathetic lows, and frantic, near-panic attacks.

 

He seemed at last to have settled down into a manageable rhythm, though his sleep schedule was still shot, and he was definitely on the low-energy side of the scale more often than not.

 

Like today. Lying across his bed, fully clothed, Even stared up at his ceiling while the measured, ambient sounds of Brockhampton’s ‘FACE’ flowed through his speakers and he tried to organise his thoughts before he left to Åse’s office. He had finished one week at Nissen, and while third year was easier this time around in terms of academic progress, it still wasn’t easy.

 

Sana was, as predicted, his rock, meeting him before school most days at KB, while the Bakka squad checked in with him after school. But the constant positive façade his family and friends projected began to grate on him. As much as he wanted to go along with it, it felt fake. It felt like everyone was walking on eggshells, waiting for him to snap, and fuck it all up again.

 

The added irritation came the night before, when his parents began prodding him at dinner for answers on where he was applying for university, and what he was applying for. He didn’t know what he wanted. He could go to UiO, or London, or Copenhagen, or Stockholm. But he didn’t know for sure if he wanted to move away from Oslo. And he didn’t know for sure if he wanted to do film studies.

 

_Maybe film should just be a hobby I indulge in with dioramas and handheld camcorders._

_Maybe I’m not cut out to be a director._

_Maybe I’m just not that good at anything, really._

 

He rolled over on his side and closed his eyes. He needed to get out of his head. He needed to escape his thoughts. At another time, he would have called Sonja, but the phantom impulse to reach out for her drew him back to himself.

 

She hated him now, after he brusquely dumped her when he hit his first depressive episode, right after his 19th birthday. She’d come over to shout at him for kissing Mikael—which was fair—but the one-sided shouting match turned into a bitter back-and-forth as Even told her he felt more for Mikael than he ever did for Sonja, even if he only liked them as a friend.

 

Sonja dropped her arms and as sudden tears fell down both of her cheeks, Even realised with a sickening tug in his stomach that he’d never been in love with Sonja.

 

She hadn’t spoken to him since.

 

 

He needed a distraction. He needed something to get through his next counselling session. So he pulled out his phone, and called Mikael, who picked up on the second ring.

 

‘ _Marhaba_ , Even! You survived your first week. How’s it feel?’

 

Even shrugged. ‘Fine. I still suck at biology, what’s new.’

 

‘But you nail anatomy, though, ayyy,’ Mikael replied with a lilt.

 

‘Oh, Mik, that was terrible,’ Even laughed.

 

‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’

 

Even sighed and bit his lip, then bit the bullet. ‘Later today. After my shrink. I need a distraction.’

 

Mikael knew what the euphemism meant.

There was a prolonged pause on the other end of the line.

 

_Come on, don’t ask me if it’ll mess with my meds. Don’t ask me. Just help me out. You already know I know the side-effects._

_We learned that the hard way._

 

> The first time Even smoked weed while he was on Klonopin, he was at the Bakkoush’s house, they were all 16, and he and Mikael had secretly smoked a joint in the back garden. When he left for home around 21,00, he spent three hours on a journey that should have only taken 30 minutes walking. He could barely stand, as the dizziness took over, and he couldn’t focus his eyes on the street signs. Once the weed wore off, he fell into a downward spiral, which he only later realised was a mild depressive episode.
> 
>  
> 
> The first time Even smoked weed while he just on Zoloft was on Constitution Day earlier that year. The Bakka squad got invites to a huge house party out in Disen, and halfway through the festivities, Mik, Mutta and Even passed around a bong in the house’s biggest tub, and Even ended the night on the roof, ecstatic, shouting aloud all the Tarjei Vesaas poems he knew to an adoring audience of drunken teens in the swimming pool below.
> 
>  
> 
> ‘Another!’ they yelled, every time he bowed. Just as he was finishing ‘The Journey,’ he could hear someone clamber out onto the roof behind him, but he kept going: ‘We listened without understanding. / We had come / farther than far.’
> 
>  
> 
> At that, Even’s mood abruptly turned, and he swayed forward, tinkering with the idea of jumping off, as the teens below shrieked, when Mikael ran forward and grabbed him around the waist. They turned him around and screamed at him, but after they brought him back inside—and explained to the boys that the rumours of Even’s near-suicide attempt were a big miscommunication—they never brought it up again.
> 
>  

The last time Even smoked weed while on his delicate new cocktail of Zoloft and Klonopin combined?

 

He hadn’t tried it yet. And there was a not insignificant part of him that wanted to know how he’d react. And this day seemed like the perfect opportunity to find out.

 

‘Even…’

 

‘Come on, Mik. Please,’ Even replied. ‘I just want to relax for a while. And I have to fucking live my life. _Min fadlak_.’

 

There was another pause before Mikael sighed aloud, and Even knew he had won.

 

‘Ok. You wanna come by around 15? My parents are out all day.’

 

‘Done,’ Even said, with a triumphant grin. ‘ _Shukran_. I owe you.’

 

‘You’re damn right about that.’

 

 

\--

 

 

The hour with Åse was nearly up, and Even was staring at the clock, willing time to go faster.

 

They’d covered the usual template of topics: his sleep schedule, his diet, his meds, his moods. She scribbled notes here and there as Even gave her his monosyllabic answers. ‘Average,’ ‘fine,’ ‘same,’ ‘average.’

 

When she asked about his first week at Nissen, he shrugged. ‘Fine.’

 

Åse paused and waited for Even to look at her. When he did, she was gazing at him with the same piercing kind of look she’d been giving him for four years. It made him feel like she could read his thoughts. It wasn’t invasive, just an expression that spoke to a complete sense of being in control.

 

He resented it a little.

 

‘Even,’ she said, ‘you know by now that I’m not here to interrogate you. This is your opportunity to open up and examine things that you wouldn’t otherwise. Tell me about yesterday, as an example. Just what sticks out. We’ll start there.’

 

Even felt a little guilty for being so defensive. He knew Åse, he trusted her, he was just frustrated. She was the one who explained neural pathways to him, how certain triggers can set off series of thoughts, tumbling like dominos, and that these thoughts and feelings weren’t inherently connected.

 

If you could identify the feelings as they spiralled, you had a kind of objectivity on yourself that meant you could start to differentiate between the dominos. It was a useful exercise for long-term progress, but it was draining in the short-term. And usually meant working through the worst parts of yourself.

 

Besides the painful truth that talking about something made it real.

 

Åse cleared her throat and brought Even’s attention back to her.

 

He nodded. ‘Yesterday I started school at 9,10, I had a bio test, which I spent most of Thursday night studying for, so…yeah. I guess I’ll find out how I did on Monday. I went to lunch with the girls—’

 

‘That’s Sana and her friends, right?’

 

‘Yes,’ Even replied, ‘and Vilde asked me if I’d go to her kosegruppe thing they held last night, but I skipped.’

 

‘Why?’

 

Even stilled. This was what he wanted to avoid. But he knew she’d keep prodding until he finally confessed.

 

‘I thought… Obviously Oslo isn’t that big a city,’ he began, ‘and I knew it was inevitable that the rumours would eventually circle round to Nissen.’

 

‘What rumours?’

 

Even rolled his eyes. Åse knew exactly.

 

But she was forcing him to break down the neural pathways, so he knew he had to spell it out anyway.

 

‘That I can barely scrape a 4 in Maths. That I’m not just a third year, I’m _repeating_ my third year. That I stood on the roof of some kid’s house in Disen on Constitution Day and yelled out a bunch of poetry and nearly jumped off. That I transferred from Bakka because my sister walked in on me about to down a bottle of pills. That I fell into a major depressive episode and got prescribed Zoloft. That the Zoloft reacted to the Klonopin I was already taking for anxiety and that I reacted to both of them reacting to each other. That I’m a fag. That I’m nuts. That I’m stupid. I’m the dumb queer crazy kid who couldn’t graduate on time.’

 

He ran out of breath and realised he’d let slip far more than he’d intended.

 

Åse put her pen down. ‘Even. The fact that you are beginning third year again does not reflect on your intellectual capability.’

 

Even picked up his little plastic glass of water and sipped it, shrugging. Åse might have believed that, but he didn’t.

 

She kept her eyes fixed on him as she continued, ‘The fact that you have ADHD, anxiety, and depression does not reflect on your capacity to reason, feel, or think.’

 

He felt the familiar sting behind his eyes. When Åse gave him her uplifting speeches, he usually ended up with a tissue held to his face. Such an open outpouring of support was not something he would ever get used to. Especially knowing that most of it would not come from his parents.

 

‘The fact that mental health is treated with potent medicines—which can be powerful in their unfortunate side effects—does not reflect on your ability to be a well-rounded person.’

 

There it was.

The first tear slipped past and fell down his cheek. _Fuck, I hate crying, and she’s seen me cry way too fucking much this year already._

 

‘The fact that you are openly pansexual does not reflect on anything except your hard work to get to a place of self-acceptance. The fact that you are the target for schoolyard whispers and taunts behind closed doors is no reflection on you. Do you hear me?’

 

Even nodded, sniffing, and crossed his arms, keeping his eyes fixed on the far corner of the room, where a wilting potted plant was placed in front of a small airduct, covered in dust.

 

‘The fact that you take medicine to address your mental health is not something you should hold against yourself. You don’t stigmatize someone with a broken bone for needing crutches. Why stigmatize yourself for needing mood stabilizers and SSRIs?’

 

Even shook his head. Though he did see the meds as a terrible crutch ( _and Åse probably shouldn’t metaphorically refer to them that way_ ), his mental health was not like a broken bone. A broken bone can be fixed.

 

Åse hummed a small sound of scepticism to herself, and picked up her pen again. ‘What I want you to do this week is write down every rumour that bothers you and work through the neural pathways it triggers. Remember, focus on how your body reacts—the physical reaction they provoke—and record them in your journal, like we discussed.’

 

Even grudgingly assented, and then grabbed the handle of his rucksack. ‘Is that all?’

 

Åse gave him a small smile. ‘We’ll work on self-image next week.’

 

 

\--

 

 

‘Self-image?’ Mikael asked, passing the joint back to Even.

 

Even chuckled and brought the joint to his lips, took a deep inhale, and enjoyed the slight burn as the smoke filled his throat and lungs. ‘Yep,’ he breathed out, watching the smoke blur his view of Mikael. ‘My self-image.’

 

‘I know how much you _love_ that,’ Mikael laughed, waving through the smoke cloud Even was directing to their face.

 

‘It’s not like I have terrible self-image,’ Even said, taking another hit from the joint, while Mikael burst out an incredulous laugh.

 

‘What?’ Even asked, confused, ‘I don’t.’

 

Mikael took the joint back. ‘Even. You are one of the _least_ self-aware people I know if you really believe that.’

 

‘I know I’m, like, passably attractive, I like talking to people, I know people like me, I can be understanding and funny and charming—’

 

Mikael breathed out a cloud of smoke right into Even’s face, causing him to splutter and cough. ‘What was that for?!’

 

‘Honestly, man,’ they said, ‘self-image is not about how hot you are, or your extroversion. It’s about _how you see yourself_. Thought that was pretty obvious.’

 

‘But that is how I see myself?’

 

‘Oh yeah?’ they said. ‘Imagine we don’t know each other. Now describe yourself to me.’

 

Even paused. ‘My name is Even Bech Næsheim. I’m 19. I go to Nissen, I’m in my final year. I’m thinking of applying to UiO for film studies next year.’

 

Mikael frowned and took another hit from the joint. ‘Even. Don’t describe what you do. Describe _yourself_. Describe to me _who_ you are. Think _adjectives_.’

 

‘I’m—tall?’

 

Mikael looked at him with incredulity. ‘Fuck, you really do suck at this. Ok, let me give you an example, and then you can try and follow suit,’ they said, stubbing out the roach on the ashtray, blowing out the smoke, crossing their legs on the windowsill and facing Even directly, setting their face into an exaggerated glare.

 

‘Hi,’ Mikael said, frowning even more and dropping his voice into a monotone, ‘I’m Sana. I’m stubborn and ambitious and really good at basketball. I have a giant crush on Yousef that I will never admit to. I complain constantly about my big brother Elias but it’s pretty clear there’s no one I love more than my family. I’m loyal, trustworthy, smart, and completely done with your shit.’

 

Even couldn’t hold in the huge laugh he’d been keeping in since Mikael’s impersonation began. They soon joined him and pulled out another joint from their tin, lighting it up behind cupped hands. ‘See?’ they said, with a flourish, ‘easy. Now you do it.’

 

Copying Mikael’s poise from earlier, Even crossed his legs and faced them directly. ‘Hi,’ he said, ‘I’m Even. I’m fucked up in the head, I’m aimless, and average at drawing. I have a giant crush on this blonde kid I saw on my first day in Nissen, who’ll probably never speak to me. I complain constantly about my meds but it’s pretty clear there’s no way I could actually function without them. I’m a good listener—when I’m not distracted. I’m patient—when I’m not depressed. And I’m trustworthy—when I’m not about to jump off a roof.’

 

Mikael’s expression shifted from amusement to a solemn look of concern and sorrow. ‘Even…’ They reached out their free hand.

 

‘It’s fine, Mik,’ Even said, abruptly, reaching instead for their joint.

 

‘We haven’t…we never talked about that.’

 

‘Nothing to talk about. Besides, I did enough talking with Åse this morning.’

 

Startled by Even’s icy tone, Mikael nodded and chose to remain silent for a minute.

 

Even immediately felt bad for biting back, and looked up to Mikael, as he handed them back the joint.

 

‘I’m sorry,’ Even said. ‘It’s just been…a long week.’

 

They looked at Even, but they seemed to have shifted from apprehension to something else—uneasiness, maybe, Even thought.

 

‘There’s something else I haven’t really talked about,’ Mikael continued, offering Even the joint again. Even waited for them to elaborate.

 

‘What happened on your birthday,’ Mikael said quietly.

 

Taking another hit, Even raised his eyebrows, and said, ‘But we did talk about it. In Elias’s closet, actually. Hence Mutta’s terrible joke later that evening about me “coming out of the closet”.’

 

Mikael smiled, but then refocused their attention. ‘We talked about the fact that you kissed me, because you were figuring out that you’re pan, and that I was caught off-guard by it, and very nervous about the possibility that you wanted me as more than a friend.’

 

Even nodded. He was glad Mikael brought this up while they were both high; it would have been far too awkward otherwise.

 

‘Ok? And that doesn’t cover everything? I told you I didn’t want you as a significant other or anything, and I meant it. What else is there to say?’

 

Mikael took the joint back and kept intense eye contact with Even the whole time, as they breathed in heavily and breathed out again.

 

‘I liked it.’

 

They said it so simply and with no hesitation that Even was momentarily confused. ‘Ok?’ he said. Mikael was into women, had always been into women. It’s not strange that they might like a kiss from a guy. It didn’t necessarily mean anything. Mikael had talked about this at length with Even already, while Even was trying to deal with being pansexual, so they knew this all already.

 

Even looked at them carefully, ‘You liked the kiss. Cool. … Thanks, I guess?’

 

Mikael rolled their eyes and took another hit. ‘No, dumbass. I liked _you_ kissing me.’

 

Again, they said it with such nonchalance that Even at first couldn’t really process what they were saying.

 

Then it finally began to sink in.

 

‘Oh… _oh_. Okay. Right. Yeah.’

 

Suddenly Even didn’t know where to put his hands.

 

Mikael offered him the joint back. ‘You look like you need this. Here.’

 

Even took it gladly and breathed in more than he would usually try to take. Mikael never took their eyes off of him.

 

‘Listen,’ they continued, ‘this doesn’t have to be weird. I just … I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And I wanted to come out to you first.’

 

Even froze, and reeled from Mikael’s words.

 

This wasn’t just about Mikael having feelings for Even, he suddenly realised.

 

This was about Mikael having feelings for men.

 

‘Right. Shit, of course. Sorry, Mik,’ Even said, ‘Congratulations!’

 

He leaned forward and gave Mikael a stilted one-armed hug. Mikael huffed out a laugh and clasped their hands around Even’s waist, tucking their nose into his neck for a second and nuzzling it.

 

Before it could get too intimate, Even leaned back and coughed. ‘That’s—that’s really great, Mikael. I’m really happy for you.’

 

They smiled and nodded. ‘Yep. Just bought my bi flag online. Honestly it’s kind of a relief, not just because a lot more stuff makes sense, but because, even though I was assigned male at birth, and I’m primarily into girls it seems, the word “heterosexual” doesn’t really fit when you’re non-binary.’

 

They gestured to themselves, ‘Not a guy, so…’

 

Even laughed and took the final hit from the roach and stubbed it out on the windowsill.

 

Before he could breathe it out, Mikael quickly said, ‘Shotgun?’

 

Even widened his eyes and for a second couldn’t think what was the appropriate response. Mikael’s face was so close to his own, and the light-hearted joking that had happened just moments before was replaced with a tense feeling of trepidation. Shotgunning was, on the one hand, a way of maximising the weed, and it was Mikael’s weed, so maybe he owed it to them to let them have the last of it; but on the other hand, it was essentially a precursor to kissing. And Mikael had just told him they liked kissing him.

 

Before Even could overthink it, or just breathe out because he was taking so long, Mikael’s face softened and they let out a barely audible, ‘Please.’

 

Even was powerless at that, so he cupped Mikael’s face as their hands fell to their knees.

 

He tilted his head and closed his eyes as he slowly, cautiously, breathed out into Mikael’s mouth. Their lips were almost touching, and Even was careful to make sure they wouldn’t. He felt how Mikael’s hands were now grasping his elbows, and as his exhale faded out, he opened his eyes to see Mikael’s blissed expression, right before they, too, let out the last of the smoke and opened their eyes.

 

Even was still cupping their face, and saw how much their pupils had dilated, knowing it wasn’t just the weed.

 

Mikael’s eyes glanced down to Even’s lips and as they began to lean in, he reeled back, reminding himself that this couldn’t happen, especially not while high.

 

Mikael’s gaze shot back up to Even’s eyes. They stilled, abruptly leaning back in embarrassment and confusion, so that no part of them was touching Even anymore.

 

‘Mik,’ Even began, ‘we shouldn’t—’

 

‘No, no, it’s cool,’ Mikael said, ‘I get it. Sorry, that wasn’t … I shouldn’t have.’

 

‘We’re friends, we can’t—’

 

‘Just forget it, Even,’ Mikael snapped.

 

As Even opened his mouth to respond, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at the caller ID. Astrid.

 

‘Shit. Mik, I have to take this,’ he said. He did not have to take it.

 

‘Sure, yeah. That’s cool.’ Mikael knew he did not have to take it.

 

Even stepped out into Mikael’s hallway to answer.

 

‘Astrid,’ Even said, ‘what’s up?’

 

‘Hey Ev. Just wanted to check in with you.’

 

‘Oh, right. Yeah. I’m good. All good.’

 

He realised he couldn’t actually talk to Astrid now, his head was still stuck on what had just happened with Mikael.

 

‘…It sounds like I’ve picked a bad time.’

 

‘No, no it’s not that—I just—I’m at Mikael’s, and, we were just in the middle of something.’

 

‘That’s ok. I’m thinking of dropping in to see mama and papa tomorrow, will you be around?’

 

‘Yeah! Yeah I’ll be home.’

 

‘Great. I’ll see you then?’

 

‘Ok. See you then. _Ha det_.’

 

‘ _Ha det_.’

 

Even hangs up, and curses at himself. He had to face his friend sooner or later. As he walked back into Mikael’s room, they had cleared up the ashtray and opened up their laptop.

 

‘Hey, I figured we could watch _Romeo + Juliet_ until the weed wears off and you can go home.’

 

Even’s heart swelled. Mikael couldn’t stand Baz Luhrmann, but here they were, offering it up for his sake.

 

‘Everything alright with Astrid?’ they asked.

 

‘Yeah,’ Even said, as he dropped down on the bed next to them, ‘she’s just gonna drop by the house tomorrow and catch up then.’

 

‘How is home anyway?’

 

Even paused, and bit his lip. It was the one thing he managed to avoid talking with Åse about, and he really didn’t want to do it now.

 

‘The same,’ he finally answered.

 

Mikael nodded, pursed their lips, and turned their attention back to the laptop, searching for _Romeo + Juliet_ on their hard drive.

 

‘You know,’ they said, out of nowhere, ‘you’ve never explained to me why you picked the posh school.’

 

‘What?’ said Even, affronted and surprised. ‘Nissen’s not that posh.’

 

Mikael smirked. ‘Granted, all Oslo schools are posh, but come on. Princess Astrid and Princess Ragnhild both went there. It’s got a certain reputation. Plus, it’s in Frogner.’

 

This was an easy subject, a quick way to lighten the mood, and ignore what had gone before. Even was grateful for it.

 

He rolled his eyes. ‘Please. It’s not like that.’

 

‘Tell me what it’s like, then,’ Mikael prompted.

 

‘Well, like you said, Katta is all about “schola vitæ” and Latin and being Edvard Munch’s alma mater. Plus, you know, like Elias said, the girls there are super preppey, with their tight ponytails and camel toes,’ Even joked.

 

Mikael nodded. ‘That, and it’s around the corner from Bakka, I guess.’

 

Even’s face fell. That was, in fact, the real reason.

 

‘Anyway,’ he went on, ‘Handels was a straight-up no, because I’m not cut out for finance and business management. And—as Elias said—the girls there all pair their outfits with their Michael Kors bags, “which is only bearable because they suck a lot of cock.” And that would be fine for me, but being a soulless accountant is too great a price to pay for good head.’

 

Mikael laughed and clicked on his illegally downloaded file of _Romeo + Juliet_.

 

‘Mik!,’ Even shouted as soon as he realised it had been torrented, ‘you couldn’t just rent it?  Come on!’

 

They shrugged and looked over at Even. ‘Baz Luhrmann does not need my money. Anyway you still haven’t told me why you picked Nissen.’

 

‘We’re discussing your illegal activities later,’ Even said but went on, ‘So Katta and Handels were out. That left Foss. Which—again—is already too close to Bakka… And though I like to think I can hold a note, I’m not sure I’m meant to join a glee club and talk about “cultural capital” while my closet is almost entirely comprised of flannel.’

 

‘I think you rock it,’ Mikael said, with a sly grin.

 

Even blushed despite himself, and went on as if he hadn’t heard. ‘So, Nissen. First higher education institution in Norway to admit women. Used to be a private school, old money, and still has a high reputation. That, and it’s on the other side of Oslo. It ticked all the boxes.’

 

‘Did Elias give you an opinion on the Nissen girls?’

 

Even smirked. ‘He said, and I quote, “Hey, that’s where my little sister goes, that’s messed up, Even … Though Noora is pretty hot.”’

 

Mikael burst out a laugh and shook their head. ‘He’s hopeless.’

 

 

\--

 

 

That evening, Even was restless. He paced around his room with a pounding headache and his heart beating out in palpitations. At first he had thought the weed might have been laced with something else—amphetamines maybe?—but soon he realised it was just how his body reacted to cannabis entering his bloodstream alongside his meds.

 

He looked up the effects of taking weed with Zoloft and Klonopin online, but found nothing definitive. Instead he checked the symptoms of increased serotonin (seeing as cannabis and Zoloft would act together to increase it), and sure enough saw the list as a tick-box exercise of his current problems: confusion, agitation, restlessness, dilated pupils, headache, nausea, rapid heart rate.

 

Whether because of the chaos he put his body through again, or because the confusion provoked his anxiety, Even spent the next two hours bent over the toilet, emptying his stomach.

 

Once he calmed down, he took a shower, and fell into bed, where he started to shiver. His body temperature was plummeting and he started to suspect he’d only gotten through stage 1, when the weed was bouncing off the Zoloft and giving him an upper. Now they were running down the other end of the scales into stage 2, working with the Klonopin. His heart beat slowed, as did his breathing, and his limbs could not stop shaking under his duvet.

 

While shivering, he thought with a bitter pettiness that at least he now knew how his body reacted to weed on his new regime. And part of him was relieved that this was how he was spending his Saturday night, rather than the Katta party Elias had begged him to go to. He just had to wait for the side effects of his poor choices to wear off.

 

Eventually, he drifted off to sleep, thinking of the one thing that could get him out of his negative spiral—blonde curls peeking out of a grey hoodie.

 

 

\--

 

 

When he woke up, it was to the sound of his mother shouting, interrogating him about why he’d been sick all night, and then asleep for nearly 15 hours.

 

Even was too tired to lie to her, and just came clean about smoking up with Mikael the previous afternoon. Åse would end up telling her anyway.

 

His mama was furious. ‘That boy. There’s something wrong with him. Your father thinks so too.’

 

Even rolled his eyes. ‘I’ve told you already, mama. Mikael is nonbinary. You need to refer to them with they/them pronouns. Otherwise you’re misgendering them and it’s not ok.’

 

‘I don’t care about whatever millennial nonsense this is, Even. We’ve known Mikael for years, and no matter what phase he’s going through right now, it’ll pass. But what will not pass in this house is you being so irresponsible! I can’t bear it. You have to learn how to take care of yourself. And that starts with cutting off Mikael and his bad influence.’

 

‘Mama!’ Even shouted. ‘You can’t cut off my closest friend.’

 

‘Not forever,’ she countered, ‘but for the next two weeks at least, you’re forbidden from seeing him. That’s final.’

 

‘This is ridiculous. I just—I won’t accept this.’

 

‘Even,’ she said, shaking her head, ‘as long as you live under this roof, you don’t have a choice.’

 

 

\--

 

 

Even stormed out, pulling on his denim jacket and ended up walking aimlessly around Løkka in the soft Sunday afternoon dusk. He was angry, but he felt more exhausted and upset than angry. He hadn’t brought his wallet, so he couldn’t go to a café, and his phone was practically dead, so he couldn’t call anyone. He just needed to take time to cool off before he went home again.

 

He wandered into Vår Frelsers Gravlund, and slowed his pace among the gravestones. He found the silence and isolation in graveyards always strangely soothing, even as he was overly aware of the fact that every step he took was over another corpse.

 

 The sounds of traffic and city life almost disappeared in the seclusion of the burial ground, and he breathed in deep the freshness of the trees, the ivy, the hedgerows.

 

By sheer habit, he walked to Munch’s grave first. The detailed bust atop a pillar was one Even was very familiar with, after he sketched it hundreds of times for an art project in his second year.

 

He liked how Munch seemed to be raising his chin in defiance against anyone coming to visit him. It struck such a different image from the Munch that Even had studied, the Munch that said, ‘You know my picture, “The Scream”? I was stretched to the limit—nature was screaming in my blood… After that I gave up hope ever of being able to love again.’

 

Back then, Munch’s apathy had resonated with Even. Now, as he gazed at the bold aloofness traced through Munch’s features, he thought maybe Munch meant something less desperate, and more resolute. Like it wasn’t a loss to give up on the possibility of love—maybe it was a liberation.

 

Being alone didn’t mean being cold and soulless. If nature was screaming in his blood, that meant it was alive, vibrant, passionate. Being alone was a choice that could still allow for vibrancy.

 

He crouched down to touch the gravestone at his feet, as he always did, and muttered a short prayer. Even wasn’t religious, but he always felt somehow limp when faced with formality and its rites, and prayer now seemed the easiest way to acknowledge his respect.

 

He stood back up and kept walking, seeking out his next favourite grave: Ibsen. It was always covered in flower arrangements, usually in the colours of the Norwegian flag, and he smiled to think that just that week he’d studied one of Ibsen’s most famous works, and here he was looking down at him.

 

The obelisk that stood proudly at the top of the grave had a simple hammer engraved on it, and Even thought back to Fru Haugen’s brief biography. She’d explained that the hammer was a symbol taken from Ibsen’s poem ‘The miner.’ He couldn’t remember it, which annoyed him, so he took out his phone, turned it on—3% battery—and quickly searched for it online.

 

When he found it, he looked around quickly, saw no one was nearby, and read it aloud.

 

‘Hammerblow by hammerblow.  
Til the last day of life  
Heavy hammer burst as bidden  
To the heart-nook of the hidden.’

 

He had no idea what that meant, but he liked it. And he liked that that was what Ibsen’s grave should refer to. It seemed…full of life.

 

Even stood there at Ibsen’s grave and looked down at the abundance of flowers. He wished there was someone he could go to—that phantom instinct to find Sonja bubbled up in him again, and he pushed it back down. He knew it was a remnant of habit, a reflex to being alone. It was Sunday, so most people would be frantically getting homework done ahead of school the next day.

 

 _Right_ , he thought _, back to school tomorrow._

_  
And the day after that._

_  
And the day after that._

 

_Every day measured out in meds, monitored in joints I shouldn’t smoke, drinks I shouldn’t take, sleep cycles I shouldn’t miss. And after that? Maybe a day when I could feel less like a burden on everyone around me. Maybe a day when I feel some sense of purpose._

 

The nearby sounds of chattering tourists distracted him out of his solitude, as they loudly exclaimed, in American English, their excitement to find Ibsen’s grave. Even crouched down, touched the grave slab, stood back up, and quickly walked away.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of Norwegian words used:
> 
> UiO is an abbreviation for ‘University of Oslo’ in Norwegian  
> Ha det – ‘Goodbye’  
> Vår Frelsers Gravlund – Cemetery of Our Saviour 
> 
> Translation of Arabic words used:  
> Marhaba – ‘Hello’  
> Min fadlak – ‘Please’  
> Shukran – ‘Thank you’


	3. Good luck with your struggles, lonely Norwegian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even meets Isak. Featuring the boy squad, FIFA, bongs, escapes, a windowsill, and an epiphany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Some ableist use of language--'psycho'

 

15,30 on Wednesday, and Even was leaving Nissen after an atrocious chemistry test he was hoping he at least managed a 4 on. His mood was pretty good, despite his tumultuous weekend, and though he’d been cowardly in avoiding Mikael since their talk on Saturday, he was sure it would sort itself out in time.

 

Most of all, he was thankful his classes ended early midweek, and he’d been planning a chill night in, starting with the thai green curry he’d cook as soon as he got home, which he would then tuck in to while watching a queer film on Netflix he’d lined up for weeks—a Dutch romance story about two young athletes, entitled _Jongens_. All he really knew about it was that Adam and Mikael watched it a few weeks previously and could not stop praising it.

 

He hopped onto the bus and unravelled his headphones, looking immediately for his Daily Mix playlist, the first song of which started playing.

 

 

 

> _Er dette alt for meg_ _?_  
>  _Jeg vil ha enda mer_ _og du kan’ke ta fra meg,_  
>  _At jeg ikke tar et nei_  
>  _Men ingen sa til meg at til slutt så er du helt alene_  
>  _Det her er siste gang_  
>  _Jeg lar meg tråkkes over dyttes til neste fang,_  
>  _Bare husk til neste gang  
>  _ _Jeg bare mener helt oppriktig at jeg fortjener bedre_
> 
>  
> 
> Is this it for me?  
>  I want even more and you can’t take me  
> Yeah, I don’t take no for an answer.  
>  But nobody told me that in the end you’re all alone.  
>  This is the last time  
>  I let myself be stepped on, pushed to the next lap.  
>  Just remember for next time  
>  I sincerely believe that I deserve better

 

Even bopped his head along to the beat and smiled to himself. He had gotten caught up on work since the weekend, and was feeling a little more at ease with himself.

 

He wanted to check in with the Bakka squad, since he’d been cut off from texting them before his last class. He fished his phone out of his jacket pocket and looked back on their chat earlier that day.

 

 

 _Mutta_ :  
_Habibi, it’s been a week._  
_Have you seduced any princes_  
_or princesses_  
_or royals of any gender yet?_

_Elias:_  
_Don’t encourage him mutta._

_Adam:_  
_Yes encourage him mutta! Let’s hear it. Spill, even._

_Yousef:_  
_Wait are any of the royals at nissen right now?_  
_La afham_

_Adam:_  
_No! Come on yousef. Don’t be so literal_

_Elias:_  
_Besides it’s not like even could get a royal lbr_

_Even:_  
_Excuse you_

 _Mutta:_  
_Well! He speaks_

 _Even:_  
_I have a chemistry exam in like_  
_10 minutes can this wait_

 _Adam:_  
_Eh no_

_Elias:_  
_We’re very bored_  
_In case that wasn’t obvious_  
_By the fact that we’re all on the group chat_  
_At 14 on a Wednesday_

_Mutta:_  
_And you’re dodging the question @Even_

_Even:_  
_Nothing to tell_  
_It’s only been a week_

_Mikael:_  
_He is dodging the question. There is a dude._

_Even:_  
_???_

_Mikael:_  
_You don’t remember telling me this on Saturday?_  
_The blonde kid you saw your first day_  
_And I quote, “He’s an angel, Mikael, I fucking swear he is”_

_Mutta:_  
_Get it, Even!!_

_Even:_  
_Thanks for keeping that confidence, Mik_

_Mikael:_  
_Maafi mushki_

_Elias:_  
_So who is this guy?_

 _Even:_  
_Idk. He hangs out with some of the girls_  
_so I think he’s a second year._

_Elias:_  
_The girls_  
_As in_  
_Sana’s girls?_

 _Even:_  
_Yeah_

 _Elias:_  
_Maybe I know him?_  
_What does he look like?_

_Mikael:_  
_Did you not see my last message?_

_And I quote, “He’s an angel, Mikael, I fucking swear he is”_

  
_Elias:_  
_Yes, very specific_

 _Even:_  
_He’s blonde_

_Elias:_  
_Oh good, just like_  
_EVERY OTHER NORWEGIAN DUDE_  
_seriously come on_  
_anything else??_

_Even:_  
_IDK like, he’s got curly blonde hair_  
_He hangs out with a guy with_  
_big eyebrows and curly brown hair_

_Elias:_  
_Not sure how that’s meant_  
_to help me picture your dude_  
_but ok_

 _Even:_  
_I don’t know what to tell you, man_  
_He’s a blonde Norwegian white guy_  
_but like the hottest one in the world_

_Elias:_  
_Ok well this entire back-and-forth_  
_has been pointless_  
_Why don’t you just ask Sana?_

_Even:_  
_Then she would ask why? And it’s kinda creepy?_

_Mutta:_  
_Congrats, Even, you’re already failing your remit_  
_as the helpless romantic of the squad._

_Even:_  
_Have you all temporarily forgotten the fact_  
_that I don’t really have time to pursue_  
_a dead-end fling with some random guy_  
_right now while I have to make sure at every_  
_point that the principal doesn’t personally kill me?_

_Mutta:_  
_My point stands_

_Yousef:_  
_It’s important that you have a life outside_  
_of school and obligations, yknow_

  
_Elias:_  
_Even, I hate to say it but I agree with Mutta and Yousef_  
_And you know how that makes me crazy_

_Even:_  
_Noted_  
_It’s a moot point anyway_  
_it’s not like I have a chance with him_

_Yousef:_  
_You don’t know yet—you might get your chance_

_Mutta:_  
_Insha’Allah_

_Even:  
I’m done talking about this_

 

 

Even felt a little bad for being so abrupt, but in his defence, he was about to get his phone confiscated in class. It was a relief to see that Mikael wasn’t offended or hurt by the fact that Even was interested in someone else.

 

Truthfully, Even couldn’t remember telling them about the boy, but he did vaguely remember half way through _Romeo + Juliet_ that he thought Leonardo DiCaprio looked like the boy. And it wasn’t too far an intellectual leap to imagine that he said that out loud. And then some.

 

 _Maybe the dosage of the meds are finally working properly_ , he thought, _that might explain why I feel normal today._

_Or, maybe I’m starting to understand that they don’t define me._

_Maybe my thoughts can be my own if I just let myself feel what I feel._

 

At the next stop, he glanced out the doors of the bus, and his heart fluttered.

It was him.

 

It was the boy. Fuck. It was him, and he was alone, for literally the first time ever. He was also on his phone, walking onto the bus, and completely oblivious to the fact that he was now standing next to Even.

 

 _Shit_ , Even thought, _up close,_ _he’s not just beautiful, he’s drop-dead gorgeous._

 

He had a cupid’s bow, and a small cleft in his chin, and pink cheeks, and a great side profile, and then he looked up, straight at Even.

 

‘Oh, hey,’ he said, as if he knew Even already.

 

‘Hi?’ Even responded, wondering how on earth this conversation was happening, but also noticing that his eyes were green.

His eyes were green.

 

‘You’re the new transfer from Bakka, right? In third year?’

 

‘Yeah,’ Even said, reluctantly. If he knew that already he probably knew all the other stuff, too.

 

‘Sorry. It’s just—I was at kosegruppe on Friday, and Eva and Vilde mentioned they were waiting for this third year they met, and, well, you probably know how Vilde is. Once she starts talking, you kind of have to stand there and wait til she finishes,’ he said with a smirk.

 

Even relaxed slightly, and laughed despite himself. ‘Yeah I do know. What else did she say?’

 

The boy’s smirk grew wider. ‘Well, she did wax lyrical for a while about how it was the _hot_ third year they were hoping would come along, and how disappointed she was when he didn’t.’

 

‘That’s rude. I don’t count as hot? I’m gonna have to talk to Vilde about this.’

 

Then, to Even’s utmost surprise and delight, the boy rolled his eyes. ‘Wow,’ he said, ‘that’s—wow. They _meant_ you, obviously.’ Then he laughed.

And Even remembered the first time he heard that laugh, and realised his memory did no justice.

 

‘What’s your name?’ Even asked, unable to deal with calling him ‘the boy’ in his mind any more, and trying to process that the boy thought he was hot.

 

‘Isak,’ he said, while extending his hand, ‘You’re Even, right?’

 

Even shook his hand, and stared at him. He stared at Isak, the sound of his voice saying ‘Even’ replaying in his head.

 

He loved it. Fuck. He _loved_ how he said his name.

 

‘Yeah. Nice to meet you.’

 

Isak smiled again and let go of his hand slowly. He glanced at the ground, sniffed, looked out the window, and back to the ground again. Even started to suspect he was trying to say something but kept changing his mind how.

 

‘What is it?’ he finally asked, when Isak remained silent for yet another too-long pause.

 

Isak’s head glanced up, and he looked like he’d been caught doing something.

 

‘Oh. Uh, well. I—I was just thinking, you’re heading home, right?’

 

Even nodded. ‘I live in Torshov.’

 

‘Right. It’s just—you can say no to this, it’s just—I’m supposed to have some friends over this evening for FIFA and beers, and I don’t have any beer. But my housemate refuses to let me owe him any more money and I’m still 17, so…’

 

Isak trailed off and looked at Even expectantly. Even smiled, and then laughed, burst out laughing at Isak’s forwardness.

 

‘You literally just met me and you’re already getting me to buy you beer? Wow, you work fast.’

 

Isak smirked again. ‘What can I say? I’m very charming … and I know you probably have nothing better to do.’

 

Even reeled back in fake offence. ‘How dare you? I’m _extremely_ busy and important.’

 

Isak laughed. ‘Yeah that’s why you’ve been doodling in your notebook at lunch every day for the past week.’

 

Even laughed again and then stopped when he realised—‘You’ve been watching me?’

 

Suddenly Isak’s smirk vanished and a blush reached high on his cheeks, which he valiantly tried to shake off by mocking Even again, ‘Well it’s hard to miss an 8 foot tall loser alone with a box of pencils in the cafeteria.’

 

Though Isak’s remark was clearly meant in jest, it hit a sore spot. _Men ingen sa til meg at til slutt så er du helt alene_. Even knew he should have made more of an effort to make friends his first week rather than sketching people over and over again. And he made a point of sketching more than just Isak. Though Isak did appear in his notebook more often than not.

 

Stuck in his thoughts, Even didn’t notice Isak’s change in expression from faux-disdain to stricken concern.

 

‘Shit,’ Isak muttered, ‘I—I didn’t mean—’

 

‘It’s cool,’ Even replied, a bit too quickly, ‘I know what you meant.’

 

Isak bit his lip and drew his brows together as his gaze dropped to the floor.

 

Even smiled, touched by Isak’s clear worry, ‘Hey, relax. I got you. It’s chill.’ Isak looked back up, but seemed a little cowed, still.

 

Even wanted him to laugh again, so he went on, ‘I’ll still buy you beer, even though you’re a little shit.’

 

Isak let out a surprised laugh, big and loud, and Even couldn’t believe his luck.

 

\--

 

 

They got off the 21 bus at St Hanshaugen, and Isak started walking down toward Kiellands plass. Even followed quickly behind.

 

‘There’s a vinmonopolet down here,’ Isak explained, ‘It’s a bit out of the way, but it’s the nearest to me.’

 

‘Where do you live?’ Even asked.

 

‘Deichmans gate 17,’ Isak said.

 

Even felt the blood drain from his face.

 

‘You probably know it, right?’ Isak asked, with a grin. ‘It’s literally around the corner from Bakka.’

 

‘Yeah, that’s…that’s kinda funny. I must have walked past your place hundreds of times.’

 

Isak seemed to notice Even’s change in mood, and changed the subject.

 

‘The boys are coming over at 18,30. Feel free to join—seeing as you are getting the beer for us,’ he added, giving Even a light push to the shoulder.

 

‘And uh,’ Isak went on, ‘we should cut back through Vår Frelsers Gravlund when we’ve got the beer.’

 

Even knew it would be quicker to walk the main road past Bakka to get to Deichmans gate. Going through the graveyard was definitely the scenic route. He didn’t know how to respond to Isak’s suggestion, knowing he probably already heard the rumours and inferred how much Even wanted to avoid everything to do with his old school.

 

‘I should warn you though,’ Isak said, interrupting Even’s thoughts, ‘if Eskild is home…he can be kind of a handful.’

 

‘Who’s Eskild?’

 

Isak chuckled. ‘He’s my housemate.’

 

‘Oh, you don’t live at home?’

 

‘No,’ Isak said quickly. ‘I live in a kollektiv. Eskild works in a boutique most days. We used to live with Noora, too, before she moved in with William over the summer. And before Noora, there was Linn, but she dropped out of university and had to move home. So we’re one person down in the flat, actually.’

 

Even sensed Isak’s sudden chattiness was a means of avoiding answering his last question directly. He went along with it, and asked instead, ‘What do you mean “a handful”?’

 

Isak smiled again. ‘Like, he can be…curious. Demanding. Rude, is what I’m getting at.’

 

‘Sounds a bit like you.’

 

Isak let out a disbelieving laugh. ‘What!’

 

\--

 

 

Once Even bought enough beer to keep the kollektiv stocked for a month—which Isak promised will only last them the weekend—they walked back through the graveyard, as Isak had suggested.

 

It felt a little disrespectful and strange to be walking among the headstones holding bags of six-packs. Then they walked past Munch’s grave, and Even thought of his excessive drinking, and felt it was, in a grotesque way, kind of appropriate.

 

‘What are you thinking about so seriously?’ Isak asked suddenly. ‘Feeling guilty about bringing alcohol through a graveyard?’

 

Even looked askance at him in wonder. ‘Shit, that…that was exactly what I was thinking.’

 

‘I know, I was thinking it, too. But you know, most of these guys were heavy drinkers anyway, so…’ He gestured at Munch.

 

Even laughed loudly and smiled over at him.

 

‘You know,’ he said, desperate to impress Isak somehow, ‘I, uh, I read his journals for a project last year, and I just remember this one thing. He had a Danish drinking buddy when he was living in Berlin … it was another painter guy, I can’t remember his name.

 

‘Anyway, this guy apparently wrote one of my favourite things about Munch,’ now Even adopted a voice far too low to be his own, ‘he said, “He struggles hard … Good luck with your struggles, lonely Norwegian.”’

 

The two boys burst out laughing and didn’t stop until they each caught their breath.

 

‘Fuck,’ Isak said, ‘Munch must’ve been either pretty pissed or pretty amused if he wrote that down in his journal.’

 

‘I think he thought it was a fair assessment.’

 

Isak laughed again, and led Even out of the graveyard.

 

When they arrived at the kollektiv ten minutes later, they stored the beers in the fridge, which, Even noticed with a pang of concern, was practically empty.

 

Isak pulled a Grandiosa pizza out of the freezer and stuck it straight in the oven, which he then turned on. Even protested not pre-heating it at least, his outrage leaving Isak unfazed, who simply flipped him the middle finger and said, ‘You want the pizza or not?’

 

They spent the next two hours eating, and flicking through TV channels, while Even asked Isak about the boys. Jonas, he learned, was the one with dark curly hair he’d seen on the first day of school, the guy who made Isak laugh—Even also realised Jonas must be Eva’s ex. He mentioned this to Isak who looked away quickly and nodded, swiftly changing the subject.

 

Mahdi, he said, came out as pan that summer, but his main interests apparently were still primarily weed and waffles. Even wondered if he should butt in and shout out ‘I’m pan, too!’ but Isak kept talking.

 

Magnus was the fourth member of the group, he explained, like an ‘embarrassing little brother,’ but it was his birthday soon and the boys were going to try and set him up with Vilde.

 

‘What about you?’ Even asked, with a rare burst of bravery.

 

Isak looked up at him in confusion. ‘What about me?’

 

‘You’ve told me about Jonas’s reluctant singledom now he’s broken up with Eva, Mahdi’s newly discovered pansexuality, and Magnus’s interest in Vilde. But you left out the main member of the boy squad.’

 

Even kept eye contact with Isak, though he felt like he had just opened himself up and completely exposed his intentions.

 

His heart raced as he began to worry if he had just inadvertently shot himself in the foot, if this was Isak’s chance to confirm that he was straight, and that Even was a creep for suspecting otherwise—a hopeful, hopeless queer, who was nowhere near good enough for Isak anyway, even if he was open to it—

 

‘You think I’m the main member?’ Isak said with a smile. He pretended to think about it, and then nodded. ‘Yeah, I mean, you’re right there.’

 

He paused for a moment and the lighthearted smile faded away.

 

Even wondered if this was a silence that needed to be followed with a change of subject, or if he needed to just wait for Isak to continue.

 

Finally, Isak looked up at Even again and said, ‘I, uh…I—’

 

At that moment, the doorbell rang with a deadening finality. The two boys jolted, before Isak rolled his eyes and said, ‘It’s the boys. I’ll just buzz them in.’

 

Even glanced at his phone as Isak went to the door, and couldn’t believe he’d spent the last three hours with him. It felt like no time at all.  
And he knew he was already falling hard and fast.

 

The next thing, he heard a commotion as the kollektiv front door opened and Isak let in the three guys, who Even could hear from his seat on the sofa.

 

‘Finally! You weren’t answering your phone, Issy, we thought you’d fallen asleep on us again.’

 

‘And there’s no way we were going to stand outside and wait around with Magnus.’

 

‘Hey!’

 

‘What, man? Last time you forced us to shield you from passers-by so you could take a leak on the corner.’

 

‘I had to go!’

 

‘Magnus, you did _what_? That’s fucking disgusting!’

 

‘Isak, it’s your fault for not being awake to let us in, in the first place.’

 

‘Well I _am_ awake, and I’ve got beer. Actually, uh, the beer—’

 

Just then, the boys all tumbled into the living room and stopped when they saw Even.

 

‘Halla, gutta,’ he said, impressing even himself with how calm he sounded.

 

‘Halla,’ Jonas replied, looking briefly at Isak, while Mahdi and Magnus shared a similarly quizzical glance.

 

‘Guys, this is Even,’ Isak said, weakly gesturing between them all, ‘Even this is…’

 

‘Magnus!,’ Magnus exclaimed, holding out his arms. Even smiled and stood up, while Magnus wrapped him in a bear hug. ‘You’re the new third year, right?’ he asked excitedly.

 

‘Yeah,’ Even said, hoping the questions would end there.

 

Jonas seemed to notice this, as he put a hand on Magnus’s shoulder and said, ‘Let him breathe, man, jeez.’ Jonas then extended a hand to Even, ‘I’m Jonas, by the way.’

 

Magnus went on as if Jonas hadn’t interrupted at all. ‘Vilde was talking about him all week, made him sound like a god descended to earth. How’d you know him, anyway, Isak?’

 

Isak twitched in the doorway and opened and closed his mouth a few times, seemingly lost as to how to reply. ‘I—we just—it’s—’

 

Even stepped in and answered for him. ‘We just bumped into each other on the bus and I introduced myself. Sana told me they were bio partners, and Noora had mentioned she used to live with him … so I figured I should say hi, when everyone I knew in Nissen knew him.’

 

Mahdi smirked. ‘You only know two people at Nissen?’

 

Isak delivered a swift elbow to his ribs and hissed, ‘Madhi! You just met the guy!'

 

‘What?’ Mahdi laughed, ‘so did you, apparently! And now he’s in your flat.’

His last addition was said with a distinct shift in tone, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly became palpable.

 

Isak’s face turned a deep red, and he bit back, ‘You know what, the only reason he’s here is because he bought us all beer, and I invited him to play FIFA with us as a thank you. But seeing as you can’t even be polite for five minutes, you don’t need to have any beer tonight.’

 

Mahdi raised an eyebrow. ‘If you cut me off from beer, I’ll cut you off from weed.’

 

Magnus audibly gasped and looked uneasily between the two.

 

‘Mahdi, you wouldn’t—’

 

Even raised a hand before anything escalated. ‘Hey, guys, it’s cool. Isak, I’m not offended. And Mahdi, you’re obviously more than welcome to have some beer. I bought it for everyone.’

 

Jonas clapped a hand on Even’s shoulder. ‘Chill, man. Thanks.’

 

The situation seemingly diffused, Isak went about turning on his PlayStation and loading a new game of FIFA. Soon, he and Jonas were playing against Mahdi and Even, while Magnus looked on and shouted encouragement.

 

 

Despite being on opposing teams, over the next few hours, Even felt increasingly close to Jonas, as they bonded over their mutual interest in anti-capitalism, gender equality, and Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson.

 

‘Who?’ asked Magnus.

 

‘Nobel Laureate,’ Jonas replied, ‘from way back when. He wrote some alright poetry. And he’s really the only Norwegian Laureate in Literature who’s worth reading. Plus he’s got a great name.’

 

Magnus laughed to himself. ‘Yeah. “Bear star, son of bear.” Manly.’

 

‘Hey, I mean, Sigrid Undset deserves a mention,’ Even replied. ‘Though, yeah, _Kristin Lavransdatter_ is pretty heavy reading.’

 

‘It’s set in the Middle Ages!’ cried Jonas, ‘And it’s essentially a thousand-page attempt to convert its reader to Catholicism.’

 

‘Still, the fact that a woman won the Nobel Prize in the twenties for that, is kind of impressive,’ Even argued, ‘Like, she was writing at the same time as, yknow, Thomas Mann, and W.B. Yeats.’

 

‘You two are nerds,’ Mahdi muttered, as he scored a goal against Isak and Jonas’s team.

 

‘Damnit, Jonas!’ Isak cried, ‘if you weren’t so busy flirting with Even, you could have saved that one.’

 

Jonas chuckled. ‘I’m educating Magnus. It’s important.’

 

‘Besides,’ Even continued, ‘it’s also important that we refuse to acknowledge Knut Hamsun as a Laureate worth mentioning.’

 

‘He’s the worst!’ Jonas shouted, pausing the game, ‘like, how could we be so cool with an out and proud Nazi sympathiser winning the Nobel Prize? It’s absurd.’

 

From there, Jonas descended into another zealous rant against the far right, and the FIFA game resumed. Even couldn’t help but warm to Jonas and how he wore his feelings on his sleeve. Even understood how Eva could fall for Jonas; he was sincere and direct, but tactful, even while he was passionate. He wondered what had happened to split them up—knowing each of them separately, Even could see how they would be a great match.

 

Though, he remembered, Eva seemed to be far more interested in Noora these days.

 

He looked around the group and realised he’d grown to like Magnus, too, and his indiscreet, naïve brand of earnestness. Mahdi he was, honestly, a little scared of. He seemed the most confident of all of them, and the one he would hate to cross, based on his cool take-down of Isak earlier that evening.

 

The guys finished the FIFA game—Mahdi and Even easily beating Jonas and Isak, who was visibly irritated at losing. Mahdi tried to pacify him somewhat by producing his bong out of his backpack and lighting up.

 

 _Shit_ , Even thought, _I can’t spend another evening like Saturday night._ He took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time.

 

 _20,43_. _I could leave soon, it wouldn’t be impolite to head home around now._

 

‘So, Isak,’ Mahdi said, as he blew out a cloud of smoke, and passed the bong to Jonas, on his right. ‘How’s Emma?’

 

Even’s attention was abruptly drawn back to the boys, who all looked at Isak. He seemed slightly uncomfortable under their combined gaze and shrugged lightly. ‘Fine, I guess.’

 

‘You guess?’ prompted Magnus, ‘she gives you a blowjob on Friday and by Wednesday you say, “She’s fine, I guess”?’

 

Even’s heart sank in his chest. So Isak was into girls. He probably should have seen that one coming.

 

It seemed like the kind of thing the universe would pull on him when he wanted it least.

 

‘It’s whatever. I get kind of psycho vibes from her, honestly.’

 

Knowing Isak was being bristly to get the guys off his back did not ease Even’s discomfort at Isak’s remark. Psycho vibes. Psycho vibes. Psycho.

 

‘What do you mean psycho?’ asked Jonas, ‘I thought you liked her? Why go to the trouble of offering her MDMA, on the tongue hanging out of your mouth, might I add, if you didn’t like her in the first place?’

 

Isak blushed and squirmed in his seat, pulling on both of his sleeves. ‘I was high, it just seemed like a good idea at the time.’

 

Jonas passed the bong to Magnus, sitting on Even’s left, and he started to wonder if he shouldn’t smoke up and try to get over what he’d just found out.

 

Emma, whoever she was, had given Isak a blowjob after the kosegruppe meeting.

 

Fuck, if only he’d been there, he could’ve done something. Like, be the one to give Isak a blowjob instead. _Fuck._

 

 _But,_ he reminded himself firmly, _Isak’s into girls._

 

Magnus takes a hit and says, ‘Isak. I don’t get you. You have all these girls falling all over you, dropping to their knees at the drop of your snapback, and you don’t give a shit? Have you any idea how much I would kill for that?’

 

‘Just leave it, Magnus,’ Isak said quietly, and glanced up at Even.

 

It was the first time they’d made direct, now lingering, eye contact since the boys arrived. Even was sure he was displaying all his feelings on his face, painfully plain, while Isak seemed ill at ease. He realised quickly they were having a silent conversation, where they each wanted out of this situation.

 

As Magnus passed the bong to Even, he knew he really couldn’t afford another re-run of Saturday, but he didn’t know how to turn it down without making the guys uncomfortable.

 

Suddenly Isak piped up, ‘Even! That Norwegian homework, I almost forgot. Can you go over it with me for a bit before you get buzzed?’

 

Magnus groaned. ‘Come on, dude. Take a night off!’

 

‘We’ll be like half an hour, relax.’ Then he turned to Even and raised his eyebrows. ‘Is that cool?’

 

Even realised what Isak was doing—getting him away from the quandary of having to accept or reject the weed—but didn’t know how he knew to save Even the choice.  Even nodded, got up off the floor, and followed Isak to his room.

 

 

‘Hey,’ Isak said, as he closed the door behind him, ‘I don’t know if that was the right call, but you seemed a little … uneasy back there? Sorry, I hope that wasn’t really weird.’

 

Even smiled, despite himself. ‘No, I mean—thanks. I would usually love to get high, especially with people I like, but I … shouldn’t.’ _Please don’t ask why._

 

Isak nodded, ‘That’s chill. But, uh, unfortunately, this does mean we’re kind of stuck in here for the next thirty minutes so we don’t blow our cover.’

 

‘Yeah. That’s gonna be a nightmare, because as it happens, I can’t stand the sight of you.’

 

Isak raised his eyebrow, ‘Makes two of us,’ but his eyes glanced down to Even’s lips for just a second before he took a deep inhale and turned around, patting down his pockets like he was looking for something.

 

‘Aha!,’ he said as he took out a bottle opener with a flourish from his back pocket. ‘Knew it was there. You still want a beer?’

 

Even knew he shouldn’t. But it was just one, and he was in Isak’s room, alone, and he wanted the excuse to keep this going as long as possible.

 

 

\--

 

For the next hour, they sat on Isak’s windowsill drinking, as Isak slowly opened up about his belief in parallel universes, about the possibility of infinite alternatives, the promise of eternal change and boundless prospects.

 

‘It’s so cool, just to think that, maybe, there’s a universe for literally every single mathematical aberrance, every statistical possibility, every statistical impossibility. That we’re not resigned to the fate of just one linear narrative, you know? That this might be the unfortunate universe that’s saddled with Trump as a president, but maybe it’s the only one, you know?

‘There are countless universes where someone infinitely more qualified and competent is president, whether that’s Hillary Clinton or Bernie Sanders or Bill Nye, who cares. It’s all possible. And more than that, it’s all _happening_. It’s all happening right now simultaneously.’

 

Even grinned. ‘Is there a universe where another Isak isn’t such a giant nerd?’

 

Isak flicked some beer at him. ‘No,’ he replied petulantly. ‘Some things are always the same. Like, all the Evens are helplessly charmed by all the Isaks,’ he added with a smirk.

 

‘Now that I can believe,’ Even replied, taking another sip, but holding Isak’s gaze.

 

The tension between them seemed to ratchet up as Even gulped down his beer, but Isak broke out of it and asked, ‘So you agree? In the parallel-universe-theory?’

 

Even explained his discomfort with it, the loneliness of it, the _brain-is-alone_ feeling. That it’s just you, you and your thoughts, and you can’t escape your thoughts.

 

If there are infinite universes, then there are infinite reminders of how insignificant you are, and you’re overwhelmed by all the other yous out there. You can’t even measure up to yourself.

 

Isak shook his head. ‘It’s not about that. It’s not about saying one universe is better than the other, or that there’s a you that’s better than another. Progress isn’t linear. Neither are parallel universes. So you don’t need to compare between them, because there’s no basis for comparison. All we have is now. _Life is now._ ’

 

Even smiled and nodded. He didn’t want to bring the mood down again. ‘Ok. Life is now.’

 

As Even explained his approach—that life is a film, you can direct, that you can edit and replay and control—Isak listened along until he blurted out, ‘Is that why you sketch? Is it for, like, storyboards?’

 

Even raised his eyebrows. ‘I’d forgotten you’d been stalking me.’

 

The blush on Isak’s cheeks was not something Even thought he would ever get used to. ‘I wasn’t stalking you,’ he replied, ‘it’s just—you know, no one else does it, so it’s pretty noticeable.’

 

Even smiled and pushed his arm lightly. ‘I’m just messing with you. The short answer is, no. I sketch for fun. Or when I’m bored. Or when I want to get something down. The long answer is, it does help with storyboards, definitely. I just haven’t had the chance to do a full breakdown of a screenplay in that way, yet.’

 

‘Can I see some?’ Isak asked, finishing his beer.

 

‘My sketches?’ Even asked, a little taken aback. He’d have to find some that weren’t of Isak first.

 

Isak nodded and Even couldn’t think of a reason not to oblige, so he pulled out his green sketchbook and furtively opened a page where he’d drawn a small comic strip, inspired by Yousef’s pitiful attempts at flirting with Sana.

 

Isak read it carefully and then chuckled. ‘These are good. Great, actually.’

 

Even couldn’t help his insecure reply, ‘You think?’

 

‘Yeah. Really funny,’ Isak added. ‘I could see how you might make a short out of this one, especially. With the guy throwing grass at the _hijabi_ and then hitting his head off the wall once she leaves? That’s relatable content.’

 

Even scoffed. ‘You don’t strike me as the type who struggles with flirting. You’re about as subtle as a brick.’

 

Isak raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re one to talk.’

 

 

And Even knows, he just knows, they can’t be friends.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Norwegian words used:
> 
> Vinmonopolet   –    Literally translated, it means 'wine monopoly.' It's symbolized by Ⓥ and colloquially shortened to Polet. A polet is a government-owned alcoholic beverage retailer and the only company allowed to sell beverages containing an alcohol content higher than 4.75% in Norway.
> 
> Gutta  – ‘Boys’
> 
>  
> 
> Translations of Arabic words used:
> 
> Habibi            –             Informal term of endearment, meaning ‘friend.’  
> La afham        –            ‘I don’t understand.’  
> Maafi mushki –            ‘No problem.’  
> Insha’Allah     –            ‘Allah willing/ If Allah wills it.’


	4. It's just, I kind of want to kiss you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even wakes up in a bed that isn't his own. Featuring Eskild's petnames, a flashback to the night before, the Palace Park, and a neon party at the kollektiv.

 

 

Even woke up, rolled over, and inhaled deeply while sleep slowly drifted away from him. He was a little too warm, and his pillow smelled funny.

 

The pale rising sun was shining directly on his face, which, he suddenly thought, was weird, because his bedroom faces north.

 

He opened his eyes and looked around a room which was definitely not his, and started to panic.

 

_Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Did I black out after drinking again? I didn’t even drink that much. It shouldn’t be enough to fuck up my meds._

 

The room was completely bare, like no one lived in it. Just a bed, which had sheets on it, and a desk, closet, and bookshelf—all empty. Nothing else, except a wall mirror, and the bedside table, on which he saw his wallet, keys, and phone. Someone had plugged his phone in with a charger that was not his.

 

He then noticed he was also wearing a white t-shirt and sweatpants which did not belong to him.

 

Realising slowly that he must still be in the kollektiv, in the room that used to be Noora’s, Even got up, saw his own clothes folded up on the chair next to the desk, and got dressed, eager to be a little more prepared for the day.

 

Just then he heard a noise from elsewhere in the flat—Isak’s laugh. So, his suspicions were right, he was still in the kollektiv, in the spare room.

 

Slightly more relaxed now, Even plugged his phone out, put it in his back pocket, along with his wallet and keys, and stepped out into the hallway.

 

He wondered why he was still there, and had a sinking feeling that he’d forgotten something important from the night before. Just then, he heard voices from the kitchen and wandered through the living room to follow them.

 

Eskild and Isak were sitting at the small table, eating toast and drinking coffee, listening to Amanda Delara’s _Gunerius_ remix. Even assumed it was Eskild’s playlist, but didn’t miss how Isak was quietly bobbing his head along to the music.

 

‘Good morning, sex god!’ shouted Eskild, hopping up and giving Even a quick hug. ‘I am Eskild, Isak’s housemate, fairy godmother, and guru. It’s nice to finally put a handsome face to the name.’

 

Isak groaned and rolled his eyes. ‘You _know_ his name, Eskild, use it.’

 

Eskild stood back and glared at Isak. ‘Issy K, you should know better than anyone that my nicknames are a badge of honour.’

 

‘How exactly did I earn mine?’ Even asked, with a grin.

 

At that, Isak began to choke on his toast and started beating his fist against his chest. When Eskild and Even both rushed towards him, he raised a hand and waved them off. ‘ ’M fine, just went down the wrong way.’

 

Even sensed the lie in his deflection, and embraced the triumphant suspicion blooming in his gut.

 

‘Actually, how exactly did Isak earn his?’ Even asked, instead.

 

‘Alas,’ Eskild bemoaned, ‘I didn’t coin it. That’s all Jonas’s doing.’

 

‘Oh.’ Even tried to ignore how his triumph was suddenly overpowered by a twisting fear, reminded at once of how little he actually knew about Isak.

 

Seemingly oblivious to Even’s turmoil, Eskild poured a cup of coffee and handed it to him. ‘How are you feeling? Any cruel consequences upstairs from last night?’

 

Even looked at him, puzzled, until Isak rolled his eyes again and translated, ‘Do you have a hangover?’

 

‘Uh, no,’ Even said, ‘no hangover. It’s just…I woke up in that room and I’m not entirely sure how I got there.’

 

‘Don’t worry,’ Isak said, swallowing the last of his toast, and wiping the crumbs from his cheek with the side of his hand. Even’s gaze followed the movement across Isak’s lips and stayed for a little too long.

 

_God, it’s not fair. First thing in the morning, he’s not showered, dressed, or fully awake, and I’d still wear him like a scrunchie._

 

‘Nothing bad happened,’ Isak continued, ‘you just got tipsy-tired, and then suddenly you were asleep on the sofa. And we didn’t really want to wake you up and send you home.’

 

Eskild scoffed. ‘Isak would not _tolerate_ the notion of anyone trying to wake you up to put you in a taxi home because you looked, and I quote, “too cosy lying there—” What?!’ he said in horror, as Isak elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

 

‘ _Herregud_ , Eskild, find a filter, would you,’ he muttered into his coffee, while a gorgeous blush took over his cheeks.

 

Even tried to fight a smile, and failed. Then he looked between Eskild and Isak again and tentatively rehashed his night.

 

‘So… I remember coming back to the living room and rejoining the boys around 22,00. And I guess I dozed off? But then I also remember being in the bathroom and laughing about something? Not sure when in this timeline I got into someone else’s clothes,’ he added.

 

Eskild giggled and nodded towards Isak, ‘I think you should probably ask him that.’

 

He then downed the last of his coffee, put his empty mug in the sink, and placed a hand on Even’s arm. ‘I’m on my way out, sex god. You two have a good morning. Bye, kittens!’ he said in a flourish, and left the kitchen.

 

Gulping down the last of his coffee, Isak seemed suddenly quiet.

 

‘It’s nothing to worry about. You needed somewhere to crash, and have the spare room.’

 

Even’s nerves eased as he sensed Isak’s slight embarrassment. Whatever had happened, he wasn’t the only one with a secret.

 

‘Ok…but that—’

 

‘You spilled some beer,’ Isak blurted out, ‘on your jeans, when I helped you off the sofa, so…’

 

Suddenly, Even’s memory came flooding back.

 

> _He’d spilled the beer and immediately offered apologies to Isak, who chuckled and led him into the bathroom._
> 
> _‘It’s chill, man. You got most of it on yourself. Wait here and I’ll get you something to change into.’_
> 
> _Even reached out and grabbed Isak’s hand, ‘I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have drunk at all, I have no tolerance these days.’_
> 
> _Isak laughed. ‘Seriously dude, it’s alright. You’re not in trouble. I’ll just stick your clothes in the washing machine and get you a spare set to change into.’_
> 
> _‘Will they be yours?’ Even asked, though it came out more slurred than he intended._
> 
> _‘Uh, yeah. I’ll hardly lend you something of Eskild’s. Unless you want glitter tights and crop tops to sleep in.’_
> 
> _Even chuckled as an image popped into his head. Then he chuckled louder._
> 
> _‘What?’ Isak asked, bemused. ‘That can hardly surprise you. I’ve told you about Eskild.’_
> 
> _‘No,’ Even replied, smiling again, ‘I thought what you must look like in a crop top and glitter tights. And at first it seemed funny because you’d probably be very grumpy about it, but now I think about it…’_
> 
> _He trailed off as he suddenly started to picture it for real._
> 
> _He looked at Isak standing in front of him, with that same bemused expression on his face, and then he trailed his eyes down Isak’s neck, throat, to the collarbones exposed from his t-shirt, to his broad chest, his waist, his hips, his thighs…and Even’s throat began to swell a bit at the thought of Isak standing in front of him wearing instead a crop top with his belly exposed, and glitter tights showing off his long legs and narrow hips. And ass._
> 
> _The more he thought about it the heavier his breathing got. And then he realised he was staring outright at Isak who was still standing in front of him—and he glanced back up to see Isak’s face had changed. His eyelids were drooping, his mouth open, breathing heavy on Even’s face, too, and the heat in the room was suddenly electric._
> 
> _Even looked at him closely and saw his pupils completely dilated, and suddenly he noticed, too, they were standing very close together in the small bathroom. And before he could tell himself not to, he leaned forward until their lips were nearly touching._
> 
> _Of course, right at that moment is when Mahdi banged his fist on the door to demand what on earth was taking so long, that he needed to pee._
> 
> _Even pulled back and looked at Isak, whose face had changed again into an expression of complete terror. Isak handed Even his t-shirt and sweatpants, quickly leaving the bathroom._

 

‘Right,’ Even said, while Isak cleaned his dishes out in the sink, ‘I remember now. Thanks, by the way.’

 

Isak shook his head, ‘No big deal. How’d you sleep?’

 

‘Really well. I can’t remember sleeping that well in a long time.’

 

Isak nodded and dried his hands, turning back to face Even. It was just creeping up on 7,35 on Thursday morning, and the sun was just starting to rise, painting the sky outside—and most of Isak’s dimly lit kitchen—in a pale blue. The sharp draft coming through the window reminded Even that they were creeping further and further into winter.

 

But as he and Isak stood in the small space, Even’s thoughts, however fuzzy and ill-defined early in the morning, strayed to the feeling of sharing the small space in the bathroom the night before, how warm he had felt, between the wall and Isak’s breath, how close they had come, so that he had felt Isak’s curls on his forehead, and how crudely cut off they were by Mahdi’s fucking bladder.

 

A silence prickly with unvoiced thoughts was growing between them, until Isak cleared his throat and suggested he and Even get to school.

 

They quickly gathered their things and within fifteen minutes—in which Isak had produced an extra toothbrush for Even to use—they were headed out the door. Isak had said he was skipping the bus, as Eskild had given him a lecture about not spending enough time in the fresh air.

 

‘Though what’s fresh about city air, I don’t know,’ he added with a sniff, as the two found themselves walking through the Palace Park.

 

‘I mean, if it’s good enough for the Royal Palace, it’s probably good enough for you,’ Even joked, as they passed the neo-classical façade with stuccoed brick.

 

Isak didn’t respond, but couldn’t hide his smile, even in his thick burgundy scarf.

 

Even glanced around at the Royal Guards, in their navy uniforms, with white stripes down the outside of the leg, and bushy black plume sticking out of their bowler hats, slightly bemused as he always was by such pomp and ceremony, but a new creeping sense of insecurity started to brew in him as he and Isak passed the palace.

 

‘What is it?’ Isak asked, noticing Even’s change.

 

‘I was just thinking,’ he said, ‘there’s a king penguin in Edinburgh who’s got more status in Norway than either of us put together.’

 

‘Ah, Sir Nils Olav II,’ Isak replied with a smile.

 

‘A king penguin. In Edinburgh. And he’s Colonel-in-Chief of the Royal Guards. And what have we accomplished?’

 

Isak looked askance at Even and gently shoved him in the shoulder. ‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I ate two whole _rabarbrapai_ on Sunday and couldn’t move for three hours.’

 

 

\--

 

 

As they left the park, Even sensed Isak was trying to ask something but kept backing down from it.

 

At last, as they rounded the corner to school, Even decided to take the lead, and asked Isak if he had plans for Friday.

 

Isak shook his head. ‘We could go out with the boys? It’s Magnus’s birthday soon, we were going to try and hook him up with Vilde.’  

 

‘Ah, of course. Magnus and Vilde.’

 

‘Yep,’ Isak said, with a bemused look, ‘He’s got it bad. He just needs a push so we don’t have to hear any more about his S&M fantasy-dreams.’

 

‘Somehow that does not surprise me in the least,’ Even replied, with a small smile.

 

They walked side by side through Nissen’s courtyard, but just short of the front doors, Isak stopped mid-step and audibly whispered, ‘ _Fuck_.’

 

‘What? Did you forget something?’

 

‘Yeah. Shit. I have to host a kosegruppe party on Friday. Vilde insisted. I’d completely forgotten.’

 

Even reached out and lightly touched Isak’s arm. ‘Hey, no stress. Just invite the boys, too. You can still wingman for Magnus and chill with them like you’d planned.’

 

Isak glanced up at Even. ‘You want to come?’

 

_You have no idea_. But Even knew it was probably too early to say that out loud.

 

‘Sure, I’ll get the beers, too, seeing as you’re all incapable of that.’

 

‘Hey! Just you wait til next June, I’ll never ask you again.’

 

Even rolled his eyes, and then realised he’d picked up that gesture from Isak. He didn’t quite know how to process that, so he redirected his focus.

 

If he was drinking again, he needed to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid, or black out again. He needed someone there who knew about his meds but wouldn’t lecture him.

 

And though it was awkward as fuck to bring Mikael to a party at Isak’s—now that he knew they might have more than friendly feelings for him—he also knew it was bring Mikael, or risk another Disen incident.

 

‘Is it chill if I bring one of my friends from Bakka? And maybe some others?’

 

Isak seemed startled by the question. ‘Oh—uh, yeah. Sure. What’re their names?’

 

‘Elias, Yousef, Mutta, Adam, and Mikael. Elias is actually Sana’s older brother.’

 

Isak nodded and opened the front door, gesturing for Even to go in first.

 

‘Yeah. Chill.’

 

Even stood and looked at Isak, gesturing for him to go in first instead. Isak glared at him, then rolled his eyes, and walked in, as Even slapped his rucksack with a laugh.

 

What Isak didn’t yet realise was Even used that moment to stuff a small folded-up comic into his rucksack.

 

The box on the left showed Isak standing alone, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, and the box on the right, ‘at the same time, in a different universe,’ showed Isak wearing a crop top and tights, with Even standing close to him, as close as he dared.

 

 

\--

 

 

Two days later, Even was standing in the middle of Isak’s flat again, as Chris dotted neon paint up his arms and across his collarbones. The main lights of the flat were all out, replaced by Vilde’s UV flashlights, strategically placed around the room so it was just bright enough to bring out everyone’s neon accessories, but dark enough that it wasn’t jarring to their rapidly intoxicated vision.

 

‘So who’s your hot friend?’ Chris asked, as she smeared orange paint across Even’s forearms.

 

‘Hm?’ he asked.

 

‘Your hot friend,’ she repeated, tilting her head towards Mikael, who was coming back from grabbing a beer from the kitchen, and mid-conversation with Mahdi.

 

‘Oh, that’s—that’s my friend Mikael. I met them at Bakka.’

 

‘Are they single?’ Chris asked.

 

‘Uh…yes. They are. Very single. So, you know.’

 

Chris raised her eyebrows. ‘You trying to set them up with someone?’

 

‘No! I … they’re my friend, and, they’re great. So, yeah. Go for it.’

 

At that, Mikael rejoined them and asked Chris if she would decorate them with neon paint, too.

 

Even both liked and slightly feared how her entire face lit up with a mischievous grin as she pulled Mikael close and started running paint across their cheekbones.

 

‘I’ll … leave you to it,’ Even said, biting back a smile when he caught Mikael’s slightly terrified _help me_ look.

 

Even wandered through the living room and saw how Yousef had immediately settled in a corner with Sana, and he briefly caught their attention to smile and wave.

 

Next to them, Elias was sitting on the couch with Eskild, who was explaining some minute details of drag queens and their costuming, while Elias quickly crossed his legs.

 

Even glanced towards the kitchen, where Mutta and Adam were playing beer pong with Jonas and Mahdi. Vilde and Magnus flirted next to the sink.

 

Even then turned his head again, and spotted at the other side of the living room, Isak, who was being literally and figuratively cornered by Emma.

 

His heart dropped as he saw Emma trail a hand up Isak’s forearm.

 

Over his shoulder he heard, ‘I have a joint?’

 

Mikael had followed his line of sight and noticed Even’s displeasure. And though Even was grateful for Mik’s distraction, he knew he shouldn’t risk anything.

 

‘Mik, I got you to come along so I _didn’t_ do something stupid. Ugh, I should never have left that stupid drawing. He probably thinks I’m a weirdo.’

 

Mikael shrugged. ‘Hate to break it to you, _habibi_ , but you are a massive weirdo.’

 

Noticing how Even didn’t respond, and continued staring across at Isak longingly, Mikael sighed.

 

‘Seriously, though, I hate seeing you miserable. And it’s not a reflection on you if he’s straight. Though, you know. From what you’ve told me, it sounds like he has both feet firmly lodged in the closet, but he’s still peeking out.’

 

 

Even couldn’t help but smile a little at that.

 

‘You think—’ Mikael began.

 

After a few moments of no further comment, Even asked, ‘Yeah? Do I think what?’

 

Mikael looked embarrassed for a minute. ‘Listen. I feel like maybe I shouldn’t say this. Because I don’t want you to take it the wrong way.’

 

‘You’re gonna have to be more specific, Mik.’

 

‘I—I just—’ Mikael sighed. ‘You feel jealous, right? And it makes you want him more. That’s just science.’

 

‘Yes…how could I take that the wrong way?’

 

‘It’s my suggestion that you might take the wrong way,’ they explained. ‘I suggest you make _him_ jealous. And broadcast that you’re not straight, because it might be that he’s made the same assumptions as you. And unless you can get Eskild to make out with you—which would be ill-advised, because they live together—there’s only one other person here who could help.’

 

Even looked at him in disbelief.

 

‘…You would…?’

 

Mikael pursed their lips and took another deep exhale, keeping intense eye contact with Even while they did so.

 

‘I mean, I know it’s weird, but I see how much you like this guy, and – well, it’s not that I’m romantically interested in you, or want to date you, because we’re still just friends. It’s just, I kind of want to kiss you? And if I can do that while I help you out, no strings attached— hey, I mean… Right? It’s not a completely terrible idea. We can still be friends after this. If you want.’

 

Stunned by Mikael’s confession and simultaneous proposition, Even stood there for a beat too long, trying to think through what he just heard.

 

He trusted Mikael to be honest. He trusted them to mean it when they said they would still be friends.

 

And a not insignificant part of him wanted to kiss them, he swiftly realised.

 

He thought all of his feelings from before, the desperate, longing crush, had evaporated. But as Mikael looked up at him, the feelings stirred, and despite the questioning pang in his gut, he knew he wanted to say yes.

 

His eyes darted over to Isak, who was still standing far too close to Emma, as she trailed another hand up his arm and then cupped his face. It was the final straw.

 

Even took a swig of his beer, looked at Mikael, put his hand on the back of their neck, and brought them into a wet, drunken kiss.

 

Mikael responded instantly, putting both hands on Even’s waist and pulling him against them, backing up to the living room wall. Even wasn’t sure about the kiss turning frantic so quickly, but Mikael adjusted their feet so that Even’s thigh was snug between their own, and they used the leverage to lean up and start tracing their tongue against his lips.

 

Even was so surprised by this—it was so new, so unexpected, even though they had kind of done it before—that at first he didn’t know how to react.

 

Then Mikael pulled back and looked him in the eyes, quietly panting, and said, ‘Come on. Kiss me, Even.’

 

Their glance moved over Even’s shoulder and fixed on Isak.

 

‘He’s watching. Kiss me properly.’

 

Knowing he finally had Isak’s attention spurred Even into action. As guilty as he felt about being more concerned with Isak than the person whose mouth he was currently attached to, he embraced the victory of piquing Isak’s jealousy.

 

He laced his fingers through Mikael’s hair, pushed them closer against the wall, and then swiftly turned them around, and pulled them back against him.

 

The song changed from an upbeat techno dance, to the instantly recognisable remix of Robyn’s _Call Your Girlfriend_. Even smiled, he loved this song, and the beer seemed to be taking hold in his bloodstream.

 

He moved his hands down Mikael’s back and grabbed on to their hips. He couldn’t shake the desire to open his eyes and see if Isak was still watching.

 

At last, Even opened his eyes, and his glance flew immediately to Isak, who was now kissing Emma, but his eyes were open, too, watching him.

 

Even stuck his tongue further into Mikael’s mouth and stared Isak down.

 

_Yeah, I want you like this_.

 

Emma had started kissing Isak’s cheek and neck, and his mouth dropped open, aswell, as he kept Even’s gaze.

 

Mikael then moaned and pulled back from Even, kissing him once on the cheek.

 

‘Not bad for a performance,’ they said, with a chuckle.

 

Even looked down at them, and frowned, feeling a profound swoop of guilt. ‘It wasn’t just about Isak. I—I wanted to kiss you, too, Mik.’

 

At that, Mikael’s face lit up in a happy smile.

 

‘Fucking knew it.’

 

Even glanced back to Isak, but couldn’t find him anywhere in the room.

 

 

\--

 

 

Soon, Eva flicked on the overhead lights and flooded the place in unwelcome brightness. She was herding everyone out into the taxis, and as Even stepped forward to ask where Isak was gone, Eva shrugged and said, ‘He’s gone to the club already with Emma.’

 

Despite Mikael’s tentative suggestion to go back to theirs, Even decided to head home.

 

He didn’t want to go to the club and observe the inevitable sequel to this mess, with Isak and Emma either continuing to make out—or worse, still—heading home together.

 

Before Mikael got a chance to convince him, Eskild sped over and looked Even up and down.

 

‘Hi there, Even. I didn’t know you had a _kjæreste_ , and we haven’t been properly introduced.’ It was icy, as Eskild stuck a hand out to Mikael, who nervously shook it and told Eskild their name.

 

‘They’re not—’ Even said, but was interrupted by a loud argument between Adam and Elias, who were dragged into the living room by Yousef and Mutta.

 

‘We need to get these guys sobered up,’ Yousef said. ‘You know what Papa Bakkoush is like.’

 

Eskild turned to them and said, ‘Don’t worry. We have a spare room. I’ll get them water while you get them in bed. They can crash tonight and go home tomorrow.’

 

In the flurry of thank yous and logistics and texts to organise the impromptu sleepover, Even felt less and less present.

 

‘Listen, I’m going to go,’ he said, but over the disorder of Elias and Adam’s loud argument about who would be little spoon, Eskild and Yousef’s patient attempts to get them to drink water, and Mikael’s quiet phone call with Sana to ask her to cover for them, it went unheard.

 

Even picked up his coat and scarf, opened the back door, and left the kollektiv without another word.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Norwegian used:
> 
> rabarbrapai - rhubarb pie (a Norwegian favourite)  
> kjæreste - literally, 'a darling' (gender neutral word for boy/girlfriend in Norwegian)


	5. I'm a fan of you, though

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even reflects on his impulsive decision at the neon party. Featuring a lot of the Bakka squad, a tarot reading, Even getting desperate, Isak's distance, a phone call with Astrid, and a surprise.

The following morning, Radio Norge playing softly in the kitchen, Even was chewing on _lefse_ with Jarlsberg, when he scrolled through his apps, getting glimpses of what he had missed out in the club the night before. Mostly, it seemed, the night was comprised of Chris and Mahdi taking shots, while Jonas, Magnus, and Sana danced on a poorly lit stage.

 

He told himself he wasn’t looking for Isak, and that this was normal, mild curiosity about what his friends had done while they were out wilding.

 

Taking another sip of coffee, he continued his search.

 

When he opened Vilde’s Instagram stories, most of which were blurry photos of the bar, the dancefloor, or Eva and Sana laughing, he was somewhat surprised at the last: a clip of Vilde and Chris dancing along to Justin Bieber, but in the background of the front-facing shot—which neither of them seemed to notice at the time—was clearly Eva and Noora heavily making out.

 

Though it was startling they would hook up so publicly while Noora was still living with William, Even was furtively delighted they finally got together. He’d seen their chemistry from the first day, and from the few times he had met William, did not understand how he and Noora fit.

 

His buoyant mood was promptly burst, however, when scrolling further down his feed he came across Isak’s account, which eight hours previously had posted a selfie in which Emma was kissing the corner of his mouth as he raised an eyebrow to the camera. There was no caption.

 

 

\--

 

At 15,00, Even was walking to Mikael’s house, near Bislett Stadion, to catch up with the Bakka squad. Mostly, though, he knew it was to try and feel less lonely.

 

He was apprehensive about seeing Mikael again after their encounter the night before, but he reminded himself that they had been direct about wanting to be friends.

 

_There’s nothing to worry about. There’s nothing to worry about. There’s nothing to worry about._

 

His counselling appointment with Åse had gone averagely well—he studiously avoided telling her about Mikael. In telling her about his week, he’d taken the path of least resistance and insisted he was making progress.

 

In terms of academic work, he certainly was progressing, but with the drastic reversal of his fortunes in the kollektiv the previous night, he felt he was only going backwards with Isak.

 

With every passing hour, he felt more and more how poor a decision it was to try and make him jealous. All he’d done in reality was make it seem that he was more interested in Mikael.

 

And now Isak and Emma seemed to have made it online-official.

 

Entering Mikael’s house, Even shouted out, ‘ _Marhaba_!’ as the rest of the Bakka squad yelled back from the living room. He took his shoes off, stowed them by the door, and padded through the house to find everyone sitting around the coffee table, pouring over a tarot deck.

 

‘This again,’ Even sighed, as Mutta set down six cards in a star formation.

 

‘We’re asking the fates for Yousef’s chances with Sana,’ he replied with utmost sincerity.

 

‘If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times,’ Elias moaned, ‘this is not ok.’

 

Adam waved him off. ‘Look, he needs a push. Maybe this will help.’

 

Yousef took a sip of his tea. ‘A random selection of cards is not going to help me ask out my soulmate. Sorry, Elias, but…’

 

‘I am not commenting on either of you to either of you. This is something that you’ll have to figure out on your own. Just keep me out of it.’

 

As Mutta turned the cards over, Adam and Mikael made appreciative sounds of encouragement. ‘Look! So many Major Arcana cards… The High Priestess. Justice. Strength. And your other cards are good too, like, look—four of wands! That’s a great suit!’

 

‘What does wands have to do with anything?’ Yousef asked in irritation.

 

Mutta pulled out his tarot handbook and found the page for four of wands. ‘Here—"This card signifies a peaceful scene that indicates the completion of the matter; time to celebrate and enjoy the fruits of labour. A good card to draw if a family dispute exists.”’

 

‘So what does that mean?’ Yousef said, warming up to the game now that it was in his favour.

 

‘Well, it’s in the position of the star that “represents everything which will be achieved in this life.” So I guess it means, Elias will finally stop being crabby about you and Sana, once you actually get up the courage to ask her out.’

 

Elias made a shout of protest, but at seeing the rest of the group laugh, he slowly, reluctantly joined in. ‘Yeah, yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,’ he muttered.

 

Looking at the rest of the cards on the table—Ace of Cups, and, most pointedly, The Lovers—Even began to suspect Mutta had pre-arranged the deck. It was an overwhelmingly positive spread, pointing towards the prospect of gathering courage and motivation to address a deep desire, and the promise of a successful outcome.

 

He smirked and poured a cup of the tea Mikael had made, waiting for Mutta to finish explaining the cards to Yousef, who, despite himself, was listening carefully to every word.

 

Once Yousef assented that he just has to work up the bravery to face Sana, the group began discussing what they knew of the party that went on after they’d left. As Even expected, they all seemed shocked by Eva and Noora getting together, speculating about where that left William.

 

As they exhausted the possibilities there, Adam brought up Vilde and Magnus, and the cringey flirting between them in the kollektiv kitchen. Elias laughed and explained how he’d seen Magnus try on multiple occasions to wink at Vilde but was too drunk to accomplish anything more than befuddled blinking.

 

‘How did you two fare? Didn’t you crash there last night?’ Even asked Elias and Adam.

 

Mutta raised his hands in outrage. ‘Yeah because no one ever listens to me, and I warned you not to have that third round of shots.’

 

‘It was fine,’ Adam said, ignoring Mutta entirely, ‘that Eskild guy is nice. He made up the bed for us in the spare room and brought us halal kebabs this morning.’

 

‘That was pretty kind of him, considering you both passed out in his flat,’ Even said.

 

‘We weren’t _that_ bad,’ Adam protested.

 

Elias made a funny expression of disagreement. ‘I don’t know, man, I think we were pretty wasted.’

 

‘Speak for yourself,’ Adam retorted, ‘I was still awake when Isak got back from the club with Emma.’

 

 _There it is_ , Even thought. _Fuck_.

 

Mutta barked, ‘Adam! _Herregud_ ,’ at the same time as a strained exclamation from Yousef,

ما بكم؟ لا تتحدث عن ذلك.

 

Though Even had some Arabic phrases, Yousef’s fluent outburst was too quick and hushed for him to follow, especially when, immediately after, Adam bit back,

ماذا؟ انها حقيقة. وأنت لا تنسى شيئ؟

 

Adam then looked pointedly at Mikael, and Yousef fell silent.

 

As a tense pause fell over the six of them, Even waited for someone to elaborate. The only times they ever spoke exclusively in Arabic was when they were talking to their families or trying to keep Even in the dark about something.

 

It seemed Elias, Yousef and Adam were all now having a silent conversation, while Mutta looked around in confusion. ‘What? What’s going on?’

 

Mikael didn’t miss a beat with their reply. ‘Even and I are hooking up.’

 

Even felt blindsided by that; they made it sound like it was a done deal, when the two of them hadn’t spoken about it at all. But as much as he was taken aback, he also reminded himself that if he had to choose between being single and miserable, or not single and less miserable, there was no contest.

 

If he was losing Isak, which it seemed like he was, and Mikael was keen for a casual no-commitment arrangement, Even would settle for the less lonely option.

 

The atmosphere in the room was eerily quiet before Mutta looked to Even and said, ‘You’re…the two of you? But I thought—’ Yousef cut him off with a swift kick to the foot.

 

Mikael noticed and immediately asked, ‘Whoa, what was that about?’

 

‘Nothing,’ Yousef said, ‘Mutta gossiping, that’s all.’

 

‘Gossiping about what?’

 

Mutta continued, seemingly eager to clarify what was missing. ‘It’s not gossip when it’s true. I just—Even, man, you’ve been blasting the groupchat about that Isak guy. I mean, that’s why we were at that party in the first place, right?’

 

Mikael had grown quiet, but kept a neutral expression on their face. It hurt Even to see how they were trying to distance themselves from this, and—remembering the finality of Isak’s latest update, alongside Adam’s revelation—Even decided to stick up for his friend.

 

‘He hooked up with Emma,’ Even explained, ‘Seems like he’s straight, after all. Or, at least, not open enough to step out of the closet, if he’s not straight. So, Mik and I were having a good night, and one thing led to another.’

 

Mikael looked over at Even with clear shock, and then nervous joy. Even smiled at them and held out his hand, which they soon clasped.

 

Mutta glanced at their hands and frowned. ‘Mik, I don’t mean—like, it’s cool that you’re trying it out with guys, but like… I feel like we’re ignoring the obvious fact, which is that we walked into that kollektiv as Even’s wingmen to get him with Isak. But we walked out with… you two being … friends with benefits, or what? _La afham?_ ’

 

Mikael shrugged and let go of Even’s hand. ‘Even and I have kissed before.’

 

The resounding silence from Elias, Mutta, Adam, and Yousef only lasted a moment before Elias said, ‘But – wasn’t that because … y’know? Even needed to know if he was into more than just girls? When we locked you in that closet, you both insisted there were no feelings there.’

 

‘There weren’t,’ Mikael explained. ‘And I mean…this is all pretty new. The point is, I think I’m bi. I mean, that’s kind of what this is about. I didn’t want to say before because I didn’t know, but…’

 

They looked back at Even. ‘I know now.’

 

‘Anyway,’ they went on, ‘it’s not even been twenty-four hours, guys. Give us a minute to figure it out, you know?’ they added with a smile.

 

There was a beat of awkward silence before Elias threw up his hands and yelled, ‘ _Herregud_ , are Yousef and I the only cishet men left in Norway?’

 

Just like that, the serious talk was dispensed with, and Even was grateful to Elias for changing the subject.

 

Adam clapped a hand on his back. ‘In fairness, Mutta and I are still primarily into girls. It’s not your fault you’re irredeemably heterosexual.’

 

Yousef grinned. ‘Yeah, though I think that Eskild guy might be working on that.’

 

‘You have no right to throw stones, my man,’ Adam shot back, ‘seeing as your preference is actually limited to a single woman you spent the entire night talking to, but not asking out.’

 

Adam and Mikael continued to make fun of Yousef while Elias made weak threats. Mutta, however, seemed less at ease, keeping an eye on Even the whole time.

 

 

\--

 

 

Sunday.

 

Even caught up on homework. Did more of Åse’s neural-pathways-exercises. Opened up Isak’s last Instagram post four times, drafted five text messages, never sent one.

 

\--

 

 

Monday.

 

Chemistry, maths, Norwegian, gym, lunch, biology, English, study period.

 

The Bakka groupchat was quiet all day.

 

Mikael asked if Even had read any Rumi. He didn’t respond.

 

 

\--

 

 

Tuesday.

 

English, Norwegian, biology, study period, lunch, double maths class.

 

Even avoided the cafeteria again. Spent his evening staring at Isak’s photo again. Drafted another four messages.

 

Finally, while sitting on the bus home, listening to Sigrid’s _Strangers_ , he opened up his text messages and saw the last one he’d sent to Isak, when he’d left the kollektiv on Friday night.

 

 

 **Isak**  
  
Lørdag 12,35

 _Heading home, long story, Elias and Adam_  
_are crashing at yours (sorry about that)_  
_but have an awesome night at the club_

12,43

_Greit_

 

 

Even sighed at himself. _What a completely lame message to send._ And Isak’s response was in no way indicative of either interest or concern about what Even was doing.

 

He cursed himself, thinking back to sitting on Isak’s windowsill, flirting, finally getting to know each other, and hated that he’d messed it all up before it had a chance to begin.

 

He needed to try again. He needed to know.

 

Nå

_Hei Isak, hope you had a good weekend_  
  
_And that Elias and Adam weren’t too troublesome_  
 _for you & Eskild_  
  
_You have plans for Hallowe’en?_

 

He stared at the screen, as he saw the tell-tale ‘Seen’ notification at the bottom of his latest messages. But no reply came.

 

 

\--

 

Wednesday.

 

Even was getting desperate. He barely slept, hating that he’d upset Isak. Or made him angry. Or irritated. Whatever Isak’s feelings were, Even was kicking himself for provoking them in the first place.

 

It sounded like such a good plan at the time, to kiss Mikael, when Emma was throwing herself at Isak with abandon, and Mikael was so casual and open about everything.

 

As he walked through the corridors of Nissen at 8,25 on his way to maths, he decided to take a detour by Isak’s locker. If he wouldn’t respond to his texts, maybe he’d have more to say at a chance meeting.

 

Even rounded the corner to see Isak at the far end of the hallway, punching the buttons on his locker and throwing his head back in frustration as it droned unhelpfully at him.

 

Isak pulled out his debit card and tried hacking his way into it, and then attempted punching it open, wincing and shaking his hand out, when that failed, too.

 

Even took a deep breath, mustered his courage, and walked with purpose straight for him.

 

As he neared, Isak looked up, where his irritated expression morphed into one of schooled neutrality.

 

‘Hei,’ Even said, with as bright and sincere a smile as he could muster.

 

‘Hei,’ Isak replied. He busied himself with his rucksack, looking inside for something as a distraction.

 

‘Glad to hear you’ve not actually lost the ability to reply,’ Even said with a teasing tone.

 

_Fuck, where did that come from. This might backfire dramatically. Why didn’t I prepare what the fuck I was going to say, jesus fuck._

 

Isak stared at him. Then, suddenly, he let out a huff of surprised laughter. ‘Wow. That was blunt.’

 

Even put his hands in his pockets. ‘Just wanted to see if I could make you laugh.’

 

At that, Isak ducked his head and started fiddling with his rucksack again.

 

‘Yeah, whatever.’

 

It wasn’t affectionate anymore; Isak seemed uncomfortable. Even scrambled to think of a neutral subject, anything to keep them talking, to find out if he could get Isak to warm up to him again.

 

‘So … Eva and Noora?’

 

It was tangential and strange, but it would have to do.

 

Isak’s reaction was evidence to how odd a topic change it was, and he frowned briefly, before saying, ‘…Yeah? What about them?’

 

‘They hooked up on Friday, right?’

 

Apparently, Isak did not know that. His eyebrows shot up as his mouth dropped open slightly, and he looked across the hallway, reeling from this information.

 

‘They did? How do you know?’ he asked.

 

Even was suddenly more confused than Isak. ‘How did you _not_ know? You were at the club with them?’

 

‘I wasn’t,’ Isak said, ‘I mean…I did go to the club at first, but I left pretty soon. I wasn’t feeling it.’

 

‘But…haven’t you spoken to anyone since then? It’s all Vilde could talk about on Monday. And I mean, weren’t the boys at the club, too?’

 

Isak sniffed and rubbed his hand against his nose.

 

‘Yeah, but I’ve been MIA since then. Just, you know, catching up on schoolwork and stuff.’

 

Even sensed a lie, but didn’t push it. Now that he looked at Isak close-up, he saw the bags of tiredness hanging under his eyes, which were bloodshot, and that wasn’t including the matted hair clinging to his temples. He looked like hell.

 

‘That’s pretty shitty of Noora, though,’ Isak went on, ‘leading William on when she was actually interested in someone else.’

 

He didn’t look at Even, but left the statement dangling between them.

 

Even realised what he was saying, and felt the immediate impulse to gush out an explanation.

 

But he didn’t know where to start. He just knew he had to get Isak alone.

 

He nodded to one of the hundreds of flyers dotted around the hallway. ‘You going to this Hallowe’en thing in Løkka on Friday?’

 

His niggling voice of conscience began protesting on Mikael’s behalf, but Even shook it off. He needed to be alone with Isak.

 

He wanted to know if what he’d been hoping for was well and truly out of reach, or if it was still salvageable.

 

Isak turned his eyes to the flyer. ‘Eh, no. Well, maybe. I don’t know. Are you?’

 

‘Yeah. Predrink with me?’

 

Even didn’t know where this bravery was coming from, or why it had been absent on Friday.

 

‘I don’t know,’ Isak said, ‘I wasn’t going to make a night of it. I haven’t been on top of schoolwork lately and I have even less time now that Emma… well…’

 

He trailed off, but the implication was deafening. Even’s heart dropped into his stomach.

 

‘Oh, that’s—that’s fantastic, Isak. Awesome. _Dritkult_.’

 

Isak looked at him. ‘I didn’t think you were such a fan of Emma.’

 

‘Nah,’ Even replied, ‘I’m a fan of you though.’

 

 _Shit_. The words were out before he registered them. Isak seemed shocked at first, and then mildly irritated.

 

‘Listen, I don’t think—’

 

‘Isak,’ Even interrupted, knowing if he let him continue, it’d drive a wedge further between them both, ‘I don’t want this to be weird. I want to know you better. A lot happened on Friday but it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. Keep it…chill, you know?’

 

Seemingly on the fence still, Isak bit his lip. Even tried not to fixate on how much he would like to do that to him instead, and continued, ‘I should explain. Mikael is going through some stuff at the moment and is…figuring themselves out. I’ve known them forever, and we’re not dating. It’s just, friends. We’re friends.’

 

There was a long pause, before Isak smirked.

 

‘Do you aggressively make out with all your friends, or just Mikael?’

 

Even raised his eyebrows. ‘If we were friends you could find out.’

 

Isak’s eyes widened and he jutted his head back a bit in shock. Then he bowed his head, and looked at his hands, fiddling with his rucksack straps.

 

‘And we weren’t _aggressively_ making out,’ Even went on, but Isak cut across him:

 

‘I think pushing someone up against a wall and edging your thigh between your legs, while you eat their face, does in fact qualify as _aggressively making out_.’

 

‘That wasn’t the whole time,’ Even pointed out, ‘There was also the part where I couldn’t take my eyes off you.’

 

Isak blanched. Again a threatening silence descended between them and Even realised he might have crossed a line, acknowledging their eye-fucking session in broad daylight.

 

‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘I shouldn’t—you’re dating Emma now, so…’

 

Isak seemed ill at ease, but didn’t refute him. Even began to understand that his invitation to predrinks was remaining unanswered, and that the entire conversation had been an awkward confirmation that things with Isak were going nowhere.

 

He closed his eyes against the bitter rejection and nodded to himself, ‘Well. I should go.’

 

As he turned, Isak reached out and grabbed his arm. Even stopped and looked down at Isak’s hand, wondering what he should say next.

 

Before he had come up with anything, Isak gently said, ‘I’d be down for predrinks. If you want. Just, no costumes. Or trick-or-treating. Straight-up drinking, done.’

 

Even’s grin stretched across his face. ‘Ok. Fantastic. Awesome. _Dritkult_.’

 

‘Come by the kollektiv at 20? You can bring the Bakka squad too…if you want. I’ll tell the boys to join.’

 

Even jumped in, ‘I—I should make better friends at Nissen. The Bakka kids can hang out with us another time.’

 

Isak didn’t comment on Even’s suspicious exclusion, but said, ‘ _Fett_.’

 

Even seized the moment, and hit his closed fist against Isak’s locker, which—to his endless relief—swung open. Smiling to himself, he said, ‘Cool. I better go to class. _Ha det,_ ’ leaving Isak speechless, still staring at the swinging door.

 

 

\--

 

That night, Even was finishing English homework—or, at least, watching re-runs of _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ might count as practicing English—when his phone buzzed loudly on the duvet next to him. His heart leapt to think it might be Isak, another stupid meme that would make him smile til he fell asleep, but when he picked up he saw the caller ID was Astrid.

 

‘Hey.’

 

‘Hey, sweetie!’ she said, happily, ‘I said I’d give you a ring and ask how things were going. How’s your week been?’

 

‘You know, the usual,’ he said. ‘Managing to kind of stay on top of work, so that’s good…’

 

Astrid laughed at the other end of the line and asked for the low-down on how he was settling in to Nissen. He told her about how welcoming Sana and the girls had been, and how he met them most days for lunch. Astrid hummed and responded in all the right places, and Even found himself divulging far more than he’d intended. It was just easy to explain things to Astrid, knowing she wasn’t going to report back to his parents, or try and give him pointless advice. She just wanted to listen.

 

‘How are mama and papa?’ she asked.

 

This was always the point in the conversation where Astrid was really asking something else, and they both knew it.

 

_How are you coping with them? Have they said anything troubling this week? We love them both but they can be short-sighted. You can talk to me if you feel trapped._

 

‘Good,’ Even said at last, ‘we just…don’t mention certain things, and everyone pretends like the things that go unsaid simply don’t exist.’

 

Astrid sighed. ‘Yeah. I know.’ _I’m sorry_ , she seemed to say, _I wish there was something I could do._

 

‘As long as they don’t find the bag of queer stuff aptly hiding in my closet, we’re all fine.’

 

‘What stuff?’

 

‘My flag, my pins, my queer books, my sketches of Elio and Oliver—’ _My sex toys_ , he left out.

 

Astrid laughed. ‘Fair. Though if they did find it you could just say it was a gag gift from the Bakka squad. And they know them well enough to believe you.’

 

Even and Astrid spoke on the phone until he was lying on the bed, slowly falling into a contented doze as she told him about the kids—Sigve and Ingrid—and how he should visit them in Bergen soon. She told him how Ingrid had kissed her best friend Cecilia in school, and the teacher panicked and called Astrid to tell her.

 

‘I mean, what was she expecting me to say? Put them in time out? It’s a kiss. She’s four. There’s no harm in it. Honestly if she kissed a boy, I wouldn’t have gotten a phone call in the first place, but a SnapChat with the love-heart-eyes emoji. It’s ridiculous and heteronormative.’

 

This is why Even loved Astrid. She was so open-minded, so understanding, and at the same time, so intolerant of people’s nonsense.

 

‘Anyway, enough of that,’ she went on, ‘tell me how the Bakka squad is.’

 

‘I haven’t seen them much. You probably heard how I was grounded for a while from seeing Mikael.’

 

‘Ah, yes, I do remember getting a frantic phone call around noon on a Saturday about how you’d been disgracefully irresponsible… in just being a normal teenager and hanging out with your friend.’

 

Even laughed, so, so thankful that Astrid wasn’t giving him a lecture about how he shouldn’t be drinking or smoking. ‘Exactly.’

 

‘How are they, anyway? Haven’t seen them for a long time.’

 

Even stilled, knowing he should just spill everything. Astrid was a useful third party, she wouldn’t cast judgement until she knew all the perspectives, and even then, she’d probably be on Even’s side.

 

‘About that…’ Even began.

 

He told her all about Mikael’s growing identity, how they now identified as bi, and how they asked to hook up so Even might provoke a response from Isak.

 

At that, Astrid asked him to explain who Isak was, which led to a longer explanation still about seeing Isak his first day of school, bumping into him on the bus, going to his flat for the kosegruppe party, and being painfully jealous when he saw Emma come on to him.

 

Astrid listened.

 

‘So you and Mikael…’ she prompted. ‘You’re hooking up?’

 

‘Yes,’ Even said. ‘Well, maybe. Sometimes. I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.’

 

‘Is that because…they haven’t brought it up, or because you’re avoiding them?’

 

_Damn. She does know me far too well._

 

‘Maybe a little bit of both,’ he conceded.

 

Astrid made a hum of acknowledgement, and then asked, ‘Do you want my opinion? I don’t know how helpful it might be, but…’

 

‘Yeah,’ Even said, ‘I’m honestly a little unsure how I should proceed. Isak might be straight, and this whole endeavour to make him jealous a huge waste of time. And whether or not he is, I still have to think of Mik’s feelings.’

 

‘Mmm,’ Astrid agreed, ‘I was just going to say. You’re putting a lot on Isak here, with little enough to go on. The bigger issue is you’re trying to juggle two people at once, when it sounds like you don’t want to be.’

 

‘I really don’t.’

 

‘Well, then. You have a decision to make. And I think you need to make it quick, as much for your own peace of mind, as Mikael’s. Make up your mind, and stick with it.’

 

When Even hung up on Astrid a few minutes later, he got into his pyjamas, brushed his teeth, and set an alarm for the morning.

 

Before he went to sleep, he performed his nightly ritual of opening Isak’s Instagram to gaze at the last update of him and Emma.

 

When he opened up the  _isakyaki_  Instagram account, however, it was to find that the last post had been taken down.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Norwegian used:
> 
> Lefse - Traditional Norwegian flatbread  
> Dritkult - So cool ('drit' means 'shit' but in front of an adjective it's an intensifier)  
> Fett - Awesome  
> Greit - OK
> 
>  
> 
> Translations of Arabic used:
> 
> ما بكم؟ لا تتحدث عن ذلك.  
> 'What's wrong with you? Don't talk about that.'
> 
> ماذا؟ انها حقيقة. وأنت لا تنسى شيئ؟  
> 'What? It's the truth! And aren't you forgetting something?'


	6. My nudes are works of art.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even follows Astrid's advice, sends the wrong text, predrinks with the boy squad, gets alone with Isak, and then discovers something unwelcome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Ableist language, use of 'psycho.'

The following afternoon, Even was drinking a coffee in Tim Wendelboe’s (Sana was right, as usual), with his sister’s words running through his mind.

_Make a decision. Make a decision. Make a decision_.

 

As his anxiety mounted, he wondered briefly if he should take his Klonopin—he’d stopped taking it that week, because for once he felt more on top of things and less in need of something to tamp down his anxiety.

 

That, and he just hated taking his meds. Every time he swallowed a pill it felt like an affirmation of his weakness. Every time he bought a new bottle, it felt like a declaration of failure.

 

Åse was always telling him not to think of it like that—that his meds were a normal part of human life today, that they enabled him to be productive, stable, even happy—but it was hard to remember that when faced with the daily reminder of throwing back another dose, another statement of his abnormality.

 

He hadn’t stopped taking his Zoloft—he’d learned the hard way that the side effects of going on and off that were so much worse. He wondered if it was comparable to people going on and off birth control. In terms of the short term changes—weight loss/gain, skin breakouts, insomnia, dizziness, disorientation—they were almost the same. Except that birth control regulated oestrogen and progesterone, rather than serotonin.

 

He smiled at that, wondering how proud Isak might be at Even finally showing some knowledge of biology.

 

_Then again, Isak’s so competitive, he’d probably try and one-up me by talking about the subtler differences between endorphins and hormones._

At that, Even’s phone buzzed with a text from Mikael.

 

_Hey, you’ve been pretty MIA this week.  
Everything ok? Miss you x_

 

 

Even scrolled up and saw four more unanswered texts since the previous Saturday. With an even more pronounced guilt, he immediately typed out a reply.

 

_Sorry, just busy with school and stuff.  
I’m good x_

_Plans for tonight?_  
_Parents are headed to the cabin_  
_for the weekend, so I’m home alone x_

_Damnit_ , Even thought, _I don’t want this to escalate._

_But maybe I should choose Mikael._

_Still—Isak deleted that picture. Maybe it means what I want it to mean._

 

Finally Even decided he couldn’t bail on Isak after finally reaching out. He couldn’t miss the chance to make things right.

 

 

 _Sorry, I have a kosegruppe thing that night._  
_But maybe the boys will come round_  
_and keep you company? X_

_Not the kind of company  
I was thinking_

_> eggplant emoji< _

 

 

Even barked out a laugh. Then realised he had no idea how to respond to a sext. The best thing to do was joke about it. Things were definitely escalating, whether he liked it or not.                               

 

Just then, another messaged appeared—from Isak.

 

 

 _Hey, just wanted to ask if you still_  
_wanted to come round tonight?_  
_20?_  
_Because we need you to bring_  
_the beer_

 

Even rolled his eyes, and decided to text Mikael back first.

 

 

 _HA, if you really want my dick, you’re gonna  
have to try harder than that_.

 

 

Then, he went back to his messages, and opened up the chat with Isak.

Where he saw that he already sent a message.

The one meant for Mikael.

_FUCK._

He drafted four more messages to try and run damage control, but Isak replied first.

 

 

_???_

_I’m guessing that was not meant for me._

_Right?_

Even stared at his phone in horror. This was not how their conversation was meant to go.

 

 _I’m flattered and all but Mikael_  
_probably won’t be too happy to know_  
_that message didn’t get to them first._

 

Even hastily shot off a reply.

 

 

 _Sorry. Major malfunction. Mikael was_  
_teasing me, I opened the wrong chat to_  
_respond, I can’t believe this actually happened._  
_Fuck. Sorry, again._

 

 

He only had to wait a second before the small typing bubble popped up and Isak’s reply appeared.

 

_Hey, at least it wasn’t a nude_

_Or I’d be scarred for life_

 

 

 

Even laughed, finally feeling some sense of relief. Teasing he could handle.

 

 _Oh, please. My nudes are works of /art/_  
_I use the rule of thirds, framing, the whole_  
_bit. They’re gonna end up in the National_  
_Gallery one day. I guarantee it._

 

 

Isak sent a reply immediately.

 

 

 

 

> [ _https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/delusion_ ](https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/delusion)

 

 

Even had to laugh again. _He’s got me there._

 

 

\--

 

 

At 20,30, Even was back in the kollektiv living room with Jonas, Magnus, Mahdi and Isak.

 

It was a rainy night, the wind howling against the windows, as Magnus curated a playlist of Nate Dogg, Hkeem, and Kjartan Lauritzen to cover the noise of the weather outside, and try and impress the boys with his DJ skills.

 

Even pulled out another six-pack from his rucksack, while Mahdi arm-wrestled Jonas, and Isak took a video, with a running commentary about how piss-poor Jonas’s attempts to overpower Mahdi were.

 

‘ _Ærlig talt_ , Jonas, this is pathetic.’

 

At that, Jonas was abruptly conquered by Mahdi, and shook his hand out in pain. Mahdi jumped up on his feet and threw both hands into the air in victory while Magnus and Even cheered.

 

‘ _Herregud_ , Isak, that was your fault!’ Jonas cried.

 

‘It’s your fault for going up against the only one of us who ever goes to the gym.’ Isak took a gulp of beer and smiled smugly at his best friend.

 

‘Speaking of,’ Mahdi said, ‘I met the Bakka squad there yesterday.’

 

Everyone in the room turned their attention to Even, who took a sip of beer and tried to appear unconcerned. ‘Oh? How was that?’

 

Mahdi laughed. ‘They taught me some swear words in Arabic.’

 

Magnus perked up at that. ‘Serr? Like what?’

 

‘ _Kol khara_. It means “eat shit”.’

 

Even smiled. That was Mutta’s favourite curse.

 

The boys erupted in laughter and egged Mahdi on to tell more.

 

He put his bottle down, tearing at the label, and said with a smirk, ‘ _Telhas teeze_ is “kiss my ass”; that was Elias’ one.’

 

Even laughed aloud at that. ‘Yeah, but what he didn’t tell you was that it literally means “lick my ass.”’

 

Choking on his beer, Isak fell forward in his chair and clapped a hand over his mouth. Jonas put a hand on his back and asked if he was alright.

 

After a few moments, Isak sat back up and started laughing, ‘Shit, that caught me off guard.’

 

With added liquid courage, Even felt a small shift in his stomach that made him sure why Isak reacted the way he did.

 

He stored away that little piece of information in the back of his mind, and hoped his suspicions were true.

 

Magnus interrupted his musings with a blindsiding question, ‘That reminds me… you’re still really close with your Bakka friends, Even, right?’

 

Not sure where Magnus was going with that, Even nodded.

 

‘Well, it’s just—Vilde said that your first day at Nissen, she met you and Sana in the yard and you said you’d never met before. But…you must have met her if you’re so close with Elias?’

 

Jonas kicked Magnus under the table. ‘Dude. Why the interrogation?’

 

Even waved him off. ‘No, it’s ok. I get that it’s confusing.’

 

He paused before continuing, wondering how best to explain without telling far too much.

 

‘I did know Sana before. But… starting at a new school, doing third year again, it was kind of a lot. And she didn’t want people to have even more questions for me about how we knew each other before, so she covered for me.’

 

The boys all nodded and smiled. Isak was the first to speak. ‘She’s prickly when you meet her first, but… Sana’s great.’

 

Magnus, however, was not satisfied. ‘So—what did happen then? Why’d you leave Bakka?’

 

At that, Isak punched him in the arm. ‘Magnus! _Herregud_. Control yourself.’

 

Outraged, Magnus raised both hands. ‘What, a guy can’t ask a simple question?’

 

Jonas put his head in his hands and moaned, ‘Dude, you just have _no_ tact,’ while Mahdi raised a bottle to his smirking lips and said, ‘Magnus. _Kol khara_.’

 

At Mahdi’s curse, the boys all burst into cheers and clinked bottles, as Magnus looked around at them, mouth agape in confused indignity.

 

‘Oh, you haven’t heard my favourite Arabic curse,’ Even said, as they all calmed down once more. ‘Adam taught me it, but he told me it’s pretty much one of the worst things you can say. It’s on a level with the C word in English.’

 

‘ “Creampie”?’ asked Magnus.

 

Mahdi flicked him across the ear. ‘How is that a swear word? Perv.’

 

Even continued as if Magnus hadn’t interrupted. ‘ _Ayreh feek_. It means, “fuck you,” but literally translated it means…’

 

He redirected his gaze to Isak, who maintained his intense eye contact. Even then took a long swig from his bottle, making sure his lips lingered on the rim, before he finally said, ‘… literally translated, it means, “my penis in you”.’

 

Jonas, Magnus and Mahdi all clutched their stomachs as they laughed or gasped at Even’s admission, but Isak stared at him intently. His chest was heaving under his flannel shirt and his mouth was slightly open.

 

Even loved that he had this effect on him. They kept watching each other, and Even felt how he, too, slowly started to feel exposed under Isak’s stare, who now licked his lips with slow deliberation.

 

If they went on any more, Even knew he’d start to chub up in his jeans and his obvious desire would be painfully evident. Emphasis on the pain—he’d worn his skinny jeans for the occasion.

 

Isak smirked, as if he knew exactly what Even was thinking.

 

At that, Even couldn’t help himself—his gaze rapidly moved from Isak’s lips to his crotch, where there was a noticeable bulge that hadn’t been there earlier.

 

‘That turned gay very quickly,’ Magnus observed.

 

Even whipped his attention away from Isak, alarmed he’d been caught in the act, before he realised Magnus was still talking about the curse.

 

‘So?’ Jonas asked. ‘You say that like it’s a bad thing.’

 

Magnus shook his head, ‘No, I mean, it’s just—you know. I didn’t think Arabic would have stuff like that.’

 

Mahdi looked either confused or annoyed as he said, ‘What? Like you can’t crack a dick joke in Arabic?’

 

‘No,’ Magnus said, ‘like…that Arabic is, you know… that it can—’

 

Mahdi rolled his eyes. ‘ _Seriøst_ , Mags. You think there are no gay Arab people? At all? You didn’t see Mikael’s tongue down Even’s throat last week?’

 

Even flushed at that and fixated on his beer bottle. He heard Jonas kick Mahdi under the table and hiss, ‘Time and place, man!’

 

‘Sorry, man,’ Mahdi said, though he sounded more irritated at Jonas than remorseful towards Even. ‘I didn’t mean that in a bad way—’

 

‘It’s cool,’ Even said, still training his eyes on the label. ‘I know you didn’t.’

 

‘Mahdi came out as pan over the summer,’ Magnus added, ‘so he gets it.’

 

‘You don’t have to be pan to “get it”, Mags,’ Jonas said, ‘The point is it’s kind of shitty of us to talk about Even’s business in front of him as if he’s not here.’

 

Even smiled and put a hand on Jonas’s forearm. ‘Really. It’s chill. I’m not offended or anything. And Mahdi’s right—it’s not like no Arab people are gay. The weird assumption in the West that all Arab people, or Muslim people, are homophobic is a complete misconception. Plus, it’s not like Western religions have a great track record when it comes to inclusivity for queer people. “Those in glass houses”, and all that.’

 

Even glanced at the wall where a week previously Mikael had pulled him up against them, and felt the familiar swoop of guilt in his stomach. He knew he shouldn’t have lied to them about where he was.

 

He felt a twitch to text them and check in, but he knew it wouldn’t help. They’d just ask him to come over.

 

As Magnus and Mahdi started debating about the relative merits of _russ_ music, Even felt Isak’s stare, and turned his head to meet it.

 

Once their eyes met, Isak glanced away and took another sip from his beer bottle. His expression was inscrutable, somewhere between detachment and timidity.

 

‘Hey!’ said Magnus out of the blue, ‘Mahdi, what about that chick you matched with yesterday? The one who Super Liked you?’

 

Mahdi smirked and raised his bottle. ‘Date tomorrow night.’

 

Jonas, Isak and Magnus all crowed in triumph as they clinked their bottles together. ‘So? What’s her name?’ Isak asked.

 

‘Rebecca,’ Mahdi answered. ‘She’s an American transfer to UiO. _Jævlig deilig_. Used to be a cheerleader, now she’s studying philosophy and thinking of moving to Oslo at the end of her degree.’

 

‘That’s so awesome, dude,’ Jonas said. ‘I hope it works out.’

 

Mahdi shrugged. ‘Yeah, it’s cool. I’d be down for a very casual arrangement, a one-night stand, a friend, whatever. We’ll see how it goes.’

 

‘What would you really like?’ Even asked.

 

‘What do you mean?’

 

‘Like…if you could write and direct the scene of the date tomorrow night. How would you end it?’

 

‘Huh,’ Mahdi said. ‘I’ve never thought about stuff like that.’

 

Isak chuckled. ‘He’s a huge film nerd. This is his shit.’

 

Even raised his eyebrows at him, and tried not to smile. ‘Not like parallel universes, but it’ll do.’

 

Isak kept his gaze and took another sip of his beer. Even wondered if he was thinking of the drawing.

 

‘I think,’ Mahdi went on, ‘I’d want it to be an immediate bond. A natural connection. You know? Just, hit it off at the start, and start dating properly. I’m kind of sick of the whole bachelor-player-life. I want to try a real relationship.’

 

Even clapped him on the back. ‘Good for you, man. I hope you hit it off, then.’

 

‘What about you? I mean—you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but what’s happening with you and Mikael?’

_Isn’t that the question._

 

‘We’re just friends. I’ve known them forever. What happened last Friday… it was all quite sudden and out of the blue. They came out to me as bi not long before, and then asked if I wanted to hook up, and I…’

 

Even trailed off, looking back at Isak to find that he was now on his phone, frowning.

 

Magnus picked up where Even left off. ‘You’re into them, then?’

 

‘Only in as much as friends with benefits might be. I like them, I think they’re fucking cool, they’re my best friend, but I don’t know if it’s going to be a serious relationship, you know?’

 

‘Yeah,’ Magnus said, nodding exaggeratedly. ‘Like me and Vilde.’

 

Jonas, Mahdi and Isak all groaned at that. ‘Mags, _serr_ ,’ Jonas said, ‘You keep flirting at her, instead of just making an actual move.’

 

Isak jumped in, ‘Yeah. How is anyone meant to know what to do with that? You have to be clear about what you want.’

_Fuck_ , Even realised.

 

Isak studiously avoided Even’s gaze after that, as the rest of the boys debated about what Magnus should do to get Vilde’s attention.

 

Jonas spoke over Magnus’s complaints and described how he and Eva had gotten together. ‘I spent way too long trying to figure out the “right time” too, to the point that I made up this stupid bet with myself that if the next song to come on the radio was that Hozier song, “Take Me To Church,” that’d be the sign that I should kiss her. Which was dumb. I should’ve spent that time just actually kissing her, you know?’

 

‘Hey, it worked out,’ Magnus said.

 

‘Yeah until it didn’t,’ Jonas replied, downcast.

 

There was a beat of quiet in the room that Even couldn’t quite interpret. Jonas was staring at his feet, while Mahdi and Magnus seemed to have a silent conversation. Isak watched Jonas with a look of distinct concern on his face.

 

‘I know!’ Mahdi said, breaking the tension, ‘we should set you up on Tinder.’

 

Jonas rolled his eyes. ‘I am not going on Tinder, Mahdi.’

 

 

Fifteen minutes later, Magnus and Mahdi had forcibly taken Jonas’s phone, created a profile, and started swiping right on every single woman.

 

‘Hey, hey, hey! Easy with the swipes!’ Jonas cried.

 

‘He’s right,’ Magnus said. ‘We need to make sure we’ve got the right settings, first.’

 

Magnus opened the settings and started adjusting. ‘Show me…Women…unless you want to branch out, too, J?’

 

Jonas sent him a withering stare. ‘Ok,’ Magnus continued, ‘just women for now. Show Me Women In My Area, within … shall we say 40 kilometers?’

 

Mahdi shook his head. ’40 kilometers brings you out to Drammen. Say 10. Stick with Oslo for now.’

 

‘Great. Done. Swipe to your heart’s content, Jonas,’ Magnus said with a flourish, as he handed his phone back.

 

‘Hey!’ Jonas shouted a moment later, ‘there are dudes coming up here! _Faen_ , Magnus, what is your problem.’

 

‘Sorry, bro! I thought I unchecked it. _Chiller_.’

 

Isak, who had been noticeably quiet, suddenly scoffed, ‘Mags, out of the two of you, Jonas is the one who would be chill about dating guys.’

 

‘This coming from you!’ Magnus shrieked.

 

‘What do you mean?’ Isak asked. Even saw how his face returned to a careful detachment. He knew, he just knew that Magnus had hit a sore spot. He knew his suspicions were right.

 

‘You’re the most homophobic out of all of us!’

 

Isak dropped his bottle on the table. ‘ _Hva faen_ , Magnus, that’s—that’s complete bullshit. I live with Eskild. I’m friends with Mahdi. Hell, I—I watched _Call Me By Your Name_ last week with you, it’s not like…it’s not like I…’

 

He couldn’t seem to get the words out how he wanted, so he eventually settled for, ‘Just—fuck you, man. That’s such shit.’

 

After a beat, he added, ‘ _Telhas teeze_.’

 

Even chuckled as Mags asked what that one meant again.

 

‘It means “lick my ass,” Mags, come on,’ Mahdi answered at last.

 

‘Shit, that reminds me!’ Magnus shouted, ‘Have you heard the rumours, too?’

 

‘What rumours?’ Jonas asked.

 

‘That Isak’s gay!’

 

Another silence descended on the group. Even’s eyes moved at once to Isak, who was sitting stock still.

 

Even noticed, too, how Jonas kept a careful gaze on him, as he reached across the table and punched Magnus in the arm.

 

‘What!’ Magnus said, ‘I’m just saying, it’s funny he’s saying “lick my ass” when the whole school thinks he’s into that.’

 

Isak looked nearly grey at this point, and Even was close to making up an excuse for him and bringing him to the bathroom, or outside, or just tucking him into bed—anything to get him away from this conversation.

 

‘I broke up with Emma,’ Isak said, after another moment of tense silence.

 

‘What?’ The whole group was surprised at this news.

 

Magnus cried in sudden triumph, ‘That’s why you deleted the Insta post! I was wondering why Emma seemed so pissed today.’

 

‘She’s pissed because I dumped her last night,’ Isak clarified, ‘and she started telling everyone that there couldn’t be any reason to dump her unless I’m not into girls. So I deleted the picture after that. I told you, I got psycho vibes from her. That proves it.’

 

‘ _Faen_ , that’s such bullshit,’ Jonas said. ‘I’m sorry, man.’

 

Isak shrugged. ‘Whatever. I don’t care.’

 

The boys sensed Isak’s discomfort and changed the subject back to _russ_ music.

 

 

\--

 

 

Around 22,30 Mahdi announced they should all make a move to the Hallowe’en party in Løkka, which was a fifteen-minute walk away. (Only after a half an hour argument about whether or not to get a cab to avoid the weather, which only ended when Jonas peeked outside and announced the rain had stopped).

 

Magnus, Mahdi and Jonas left first; Isak said he’d stay behind a few minutes to clear the cans and bottles away, ‘in case Eskild has another conniption.’ Even volunteered to stay behind and help, and told himself he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart.

 

Once the rest of the boys had gone, Even focused his attention first on getting the kitchen and living room cleared. He and Isak worked in silence, except for the nervous drumming of Isak’s fingers, and Even’s pounding heart, which had worked its way up into his throat.

 

He’d made his decision. He just had to follow through.

 

As they threw the last of the bottles into the bag for recycling, Even asked Isak, ‘How did you end up in this kollektiv?’

 

Isak smiled and said, ‘Eskild found me in a gay bar.’

 

‘So he picked you up then?’

 

Isak shook his head, laughing as he explained, ‘ _Nei_ , nei, nei, nei. Not like that. It’s just ironic, seeing as Magnus is so sure I’m a homophobe.’

 

Even smiled and leaned closer to Isak, as they now both stood next to the sink. ‘That was a heavy conversation. And a half,’ he said at last, hoping he could get a bit more of the truth out of Isak now they were alone.

 

‘Yeah,’ Isak replied, eyes fixed on the floor. ‘He has no fucking filter.’

 

‘Do the rumours bother you?’

 

At that, Isak’s head snapped up and he looked closely at Even. Very closely. Even had made sure they were close.

 

With Isak so near, Even involuntarily looked from his eyes to his lips and let his mouth open just a bit.

 

Isak mirrored him.

 

He was so close now, he could feel Isak’s hair and breath on his cheek, and the warmth from the rest of him against his chest.

 

Before Even could lean in more, Isak jolted back and said, ‘We should catch up with the boys.’

 

He turned heel and walked out of the kitchen without another word.

 

 

\--

 

 

The party was in a second year’s house, at Kirkegårdsgata 6, right next to Sofienberg Park. Even briefly wondered how he would feel about living on Cemetery Street, but contrary to its address, the party was teeming with life.

 

Many of the party attendees who couldn’t fit into the flat had sifted out into the park and continued drinking there.

 

 

The added danger of public drinking being strictly illegal in Oslo only made the party more appealing, especially while everyone was in a range of ridiculous Hallowe’en costumes, from Han Solo to King Harald.

 

One person dressed as Erna Solberg, but with an eye-mask on, because they were going ‘incognito’—‘Get it?’ they laughed, knocking back another gulp of vodka, ‘Because the Prime Minister’s house is on _Inkognitogata_!’

 

Isak nodded awkwardly and said, ‘Yeah, man. I get it. Though it kind of looks more like you’re cosplaying Erna Solberg as Zorro.’

 

At that, Even nearly choked on his drink, as he and Isak burst into raucous, giggly laughter.

 

Jonas was soon cornered by an eager first year, while Magnus and Mahdi disappeared into the bathroom with Mahdi’s blueberry-flavoured weed.

 

Isak moved to follow them, but when Even lightly touched his arm and said, ‘I’m going to skip out on the weed, but you go ahead. I’ll just be in the park,’ Isak stopped in his tracks and said, ‘Eh, I’d prefer to be outside, too. It’s way too crowded in here.’

 

They made their way back out of the swarmed flat, and walked north until they reached the park, where the groups of drunken teens were clearly visible, hopping about around a makeshift bonfire.

 

Even soon recognised a handful of them—some of his old schoolmates from Bakka.

_Of course, we’re right in their part of town. I should’ve known._

 

Isak noticed his disquiet. ‘We don’t have to be here. We can head somewhere else.’

 

Even shook his head and spotted a tree nearby. ‘Here, I have an idea.’

 

He guided Isak away from the bonfire towards the old oak tree. It had a thick, mottled trunk, and branches that were easily half a meter in diameter. Though there were no leaves—it being winter in Oslo—the tree was big enough, and the night was dark enough, that they’d still have some privacy. It was about 15 metres from the bonfire, far enough that their presence wouldn’t be noted, but close enough that they could still benefit from the light. It was ideal.

 

Soon, Even had convinced Isak—despite his loud protests—to climb up into the higher branches, which were still heavy enough to support them. As he gave Isak a boost, he let himself look at Isak’s thighs and ass, plainly visible in his tight jeans, and enjoyed how close this allowed him to get to them. Once Isak was settled, Even tried to get a foot up, and fell down three times before he managed to join Isak in the tree.

 

‘You know, I’ve watched a lot of nature documentaries,’ Isak said, ‘but never before have I seen a fucking giraffe try to scale an oak tree. I wish I’d taken a video, I think David Attenborough would’ve done a study on you.’

 

He was barely keeping his grin under wraps, and when Even looked at him with the most offended expression he could summon up, Isak’s smile bloomed on his face, and Even noticed how his biggest smiles made two dimples appear on either cheek. His heart burst just seeing Isak so gleeful.

 

‘You know, if you weren’t so fucking rude, I’d share my other beer with you, but seeing as you can’t be polite for five minutes while we settle into a cool drinking spot—’

 

‘Cool drinking spot? Are you kidding? Unless you mean “cool” as in “cold,” then yeah, I’d agree, seeing as it’s barely 2° on an October night in _Norway_ —’

 

‘You don’t want the beer, then?’

 

Isak grimaced. ‘I’d rather be rude and sober than polite and drunk.’

 

‘Unbelievable.’

 

They sat together, giddy, as the alcohol took hold in their systems, until finally Isak cracked first and laughed, ‘Ugh, _fine_ , I’ll be nice. But only for the beer.’

 

‘Understood,’ Even said, as he produced the bottle.

 

Isak reached out to take it, wavering dangerously over the branch, before Even pulled it back and said, ‘Hey, you need to be nice to me, first. So. Out with it.’

 

Isak sat back, outraged, with a growing grin on his face. ‘ _Now_? Fuck. Alright, give me a minute.’

 

Even leaned against the trunk and spread his legs over the branch, dangling above the ground six feet below. The drunken teens around the bonfire were blasting Kendrick Lamar’s _HUMBLE_ and attempting to rap along, to embarrassing effect.

 

The orange flames were the only source of light for the two boys in the tree, and the only source of warmth. Even let his mind wander as he watched how it illuminated half of Isak’s face, the other half in near-darkness.

It looked like a perfect film shot. Isak looked perfect. Isak. _Isak_.

 

Oblivious to Even’s drunken inner monologues, Isak said, ‘Ok. I’ve got one. You’re pretty good at drawing.’

 

Even wasn’t expecting something sincere, but the way Isak said it was unmistakeably genuine.

 

He didn’t know how to talk about the illustrations he’d snuck into Isak’s rucksack or jacket pockets. He hadn’t really considered ever talking about them directly.

 

‘That last one,’ Isak asked, ‘how did you even get it in my pocket?’

 

It had been another parallel-universe-comic. On the left, Isak standing in a gallery alone, looking at landscapes. ‘At the same time in another universe,’ Isak and Even standing in an exhibition of Even’s dick pics.

 

‘When you had gym, I had a free class,’ Even said, staring at the ground below, tuning out the terrible rapping from the bonfire, and focusing on keeping his hands warm by digging them further into his hoodie.

 

Isak nodded, and started peeling the label off his beer bottle as the silence dragged on.

 

‘Still doesn’t prove your nudes would actually be exhibited in the National Gallery,’ he mumbled, with a sly grin.

 

‘You know, the more you insist on that, the more I think you’re angling to judge one for yourself.’

 

Isak raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m just saying. You talk a big talk.’

 

‘What makes you think you’d be an apt judge? Are you a dick pic connoisseur or something?’

 

‘If they’re going to make it to the National Gallery, they’ll need a universal appeal, won’t they?’

 

Even smiled. ‘You’ve got me there.’

 

Isak smiled back and took another gulp of his beer. Just then, his phone buzzed, and when he checked the caller ID, he frowned again and declined the call, shoving the phone back in his pocket.

 

‘Whoa,’ Even said, ‘everything alright?’

 

Isak sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned back on the branch. ‘It’s my mama.’

 

He lay back in silence for a few moments before he continued.

 

‘She texts me bible verses all the time about sinning and being damned … She’s sick.’

 

Even felt Isak didn’t talk about this often, so he stayed quiet, letting Isak take the reins.

 

Isak cleared his throat and then quickly mumbled, ‘My papa put her in Gaustad two years ago.’

 

Even tried not to let his emotions play across his face.

 

Gaustad. The psychiatric hospital. His mother had almost sent him there earlier that year.

 

And a skulking feeling of trepidation in his gut told him Isak was about to say something that would prove his ugliest thoughts were all true.

 

‘She has—she’s a paranoid schizophrenic. And … I haven’t spoken to her since I moved out.’

 

Even closed his eyes. _Psycho vibes_.

 

Isak exhaled heavily and shrugged, as the bonfire drunks started blaring Kanye’s _Can’t Tell Me Nothing_.

 

‘It doesn’t matter. I know the stuff she says to me is part of her illness, but I don’t have to listen to it. It just means sometimes I look at my phone and I get reminded of the whole mess. And I have to … I have to, like, remember how to distance myself from it. I … I don’t want mentally ill people in my life, you know?’

_Psycho_.

 

Even felt detached from himself, like he was watching the whole scene happen from behind a camera: Isak splayed casually out over the branch, his feet to the trunk, his face looking up to the dark, starless sky, saying all the things Even dreaded most, the things he hated most about himself. Even, meanwhile, was still sitting with his back to the trunk, his legs hanging, the bitter cold air creeping at his ankles, nose, and wrists, now matched with a terrible cold fear stealing through his gut.

_Psycho_.

 

‘I want people I can trust in my life. I’ve had enough of lies and rejection from my papa. I don’t need it from anyone else.’

 

At that, Even felt his now-broken heart shatter.

 

It was going to end tonight, before it ever had a chance to get started.

 

As if the universe was complicit in Even’s decision, his phone pinged at that exact moment, and buzzed violently.

 

‘Shit!’ Even cried, helpless to catch it as it fell from his pocket, knowing it would never survive a six foot drop. Before he could even process what had happened, Isak darted forward, gripped one hand on his branch, and swung down to catch it with the tips of his fingers.

 

He pulled himself back up, and, breathlessly, dragged the phone into the palm of his hand, where the screen was still lit.

 

Even saw Isak’s face drop as he read whatever message had come in, before he said, ‘Oh,’ and handed the phone back. ‘I didn’t mean to read it, I just—yeah.’

 

Even glanced down and read the message.

 

** Mikael **

Nå

_Hey handsome. That party over yet?_  
_I’m lonely and I can’t stop thinking_  
_about that kiss._

 

 

‘ _Faen_ ,’ Even said, bringing his hand to his eyes.

 

‘I should go,’ Isak replied tonelessly, scooting down the branch. ‘Find the boys. They probably need a chaperone by now.’

 

Even reached out and grabbed Isak’s arm. ‘Hey—Mikael is—’

 

‘Even,’ Isak bit back, ‘I get it. Just—I get it, ok? I’m gonna go find the boys. Later.’

 

With that, he climbed down off the tree. Even scrambled down after him, but once he reached solid ground again, he saw that the bonfire crowd had grown at least three sizes since they’d gone into the tree, and he lost Isak among them.

 

 

\--

 

Racing back to the party flat, Even squeezed among the rapidly filling crowd until he found Magnus, who was grabbing more beers from the kitchen fridge.

 

‘Hey, man, have you seen Isak?’

 

Magnus nodded and rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, he just left. With Emma. He insists he doesn’t like her, but he just keeps going back! Must be more into her than he says. Gotta go,’ he added with a grin, as he disappeared back into the crowd.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Norwegian used:
> 
> Ærlig talt – Honestly
> 
> Seriøst / serr - Seriously
> 
> Jævlig deilig – Fucking hot
> 
> Inkognitogata – literally ‘Incognito Street,’ the residence of the Norwegian Prime Minister
> 
> Kirkegårdsgata – literally ‘Cemetery Street,’ a residential street next to Sofienberg Park
> 
>    
> \--
> 
> Also, you’ve probably guessed by now I’ve read most of the fan fiction on here, and can’t help but drop in easter eggs here and there. So, the blueberry-flavoured weed is a nod to twentyonetwentyone’s Old Money fic; the texts are a nod to Skambition’s fics; any smut up ahead is 100% inspired by nofeartina’s Alphabet Aerobics and Dutten’s Beat that Record; and the fantasy Even has of Isak in a crop top is inspired by wordsarelifealways’s fic A Universe of Our Own (the Hallowe’en chapter…). I love all of these writers and their works, and couldn't have written this without them.
> 
> \--
> 
> Lastly, there’s a Spotify playlist for this fic, if you want to know https://open.spotify.com/user/eadaoin12/playlist/0jU3BaKBNVF5ZfVeuC5izg?si=HbXyObhqQ7WQQtKime4PCg  
> 
> \--
> 
> Next chapter is titled, 'I know how I feel'


	7. I know how I feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even wakes up to the dawn of a new day with a heavy heart--featuring a flashback, a visit from Mikael, an impulsive decision and a settled one, a wet dream, and a dream come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: some ableist language; mentions of a (minor) depressive episode; explicit sex scenes (sectioned off with *** so you can skip it if you want); some mentions of medication for mental illness.

 

 

_Psycho vibes._

 

Even woke up at 5 on Sunday morning, looking at the streak of dim pink light down his wall as it fell through the crack in his curtains. He could taste how bad his morning breath was. He hadn’t showered since before the party on Friday.

_I’ve had enough of lies and rejection._

 

Slowly, he sat up in bed and unwound himself from the duvet, bringing both hands to his head as his feet touched the cold wooden floor. He could feel his stomach twist in hunger, but he couldn’t find the energy to feed it. He could feel how sweat-stale skin was, but he couldn’t find the energy to clean. _Great, another fucking pit of depression to start off the week._ The feelings were all too familiar.

_I don’t have to listen to it._

 

Wandering into the kitchen, he saw the sunrise light up the horizon in a pink blaze. A small jam jar full of lavender sat on the windowsill.

_I want people I can trust._

 

Even slowly filled the kettle with water and flicked the switch, taking out his bag of coffee grounds and stovetop coffee maker. He then turned on his parents’ vintage radio, tuned as always to P1 Radio Norge. It was playing a cheerful morning show, discussing the latest news headlines in between weather forecasts and an interview with the Minister of Climate and the Environment. It all felt so far away.

 

He held his mug to his chest in both hands, and looked out at the flats opposite. Only two other lights were on. He inhaled, and tried to take comfort from the deep, nutty smell of his coffee.

 

The pink sky was fading into a more subdued lemon-yellow, and Even felt the instant want to be outside. He put on a pair of slippers, two extra hoodies, and a beanie, keeping a steady hand on his mug, as he stepped out into the hallway, and up the fire exit, onto the rooftop.

_I have to distance myself from it._

 

He had a perfect view across all of Oslo from up there. The city was warming up after another night of sub-zero temperatures, and frost touched everything Even could see around him.

 

East, towards Torshov Dalen park, and the ring-road around the city, which even then was busy with what looked like matchbox cars, trailing red lights along the motorway.

 

North, towards Sagene, where the spire of the church stood tall among the blocks of flats.

 

West, towards Bislett Stadion, and the curated landscaping of Frogner Park beyond that.

 

South, towards Løkka, and in the far distance, the fjord. Ferry lights twinkled in the quiet waters.

 

A serene blue had now replaced the early pinks and yellows of the autumn sunrise, and from where he stood, Even couldn’t distinguish between the sky and the sea.

_I don’t want mentally ill people in my life._

 

Even’s coffee was cooling rapidly in the chilly morning air, and he gulped it back, as the tips of his fingers began to lose feeling.

_I don’t want mentally ill people in my life._

 

He walked back into the apartment and decided he should eat.

 

Turning to the loaf of rye bread his mother had baked the previous day, he cut two slices, and took the smoked salmon out of the fridge.

 

While he chewed, tasting nothing, the radio began playing a melancholy song, one lyric staying in his mind the rest of the morning: ‘if the best is for the best then the best is unkind.’

 

                _I don’t want mentally ill people in my life_.

 

 

 

\--

 

 

At 11, Even woke up again, to the sound of his phone buzzing on the coffee table. He’d dozed off on the sofa, and as he looked up to find the source of the noise, he saw his second cup of coffee had long since gone cold.

 

With a cramp in his lower back from squeezing himself into a ball, he sat back up and read the message he’d just got from Mikael.

 

 

_Hey, you up to anything today? X_

_Feeling down. not up for company, sorry_

_I’m not company. I’m happy to_  
_come over and just make you tea_  
_and, idk, cuddle? X_

_Mik, idk, I’m not feeling good_

_Then let me make you feel better.  
OMW x_

_You’re lucky my parents are out_

 

 

Even knew better than to fight them. Mikael was persistent. When Even had his first depressive episode, which was by far the worst, Mikael refused to leave him alone, despite the fact that he’d kissed them and freaked them out only days before. It was fresh in Even’s memory still.

 

Those weeks when he experienced his first depressive episode were by far the worst, because they came with a diagnosis, and a prescription. It felt like being handed a life sentence. All the metaphors came easily after that: a mark on his permanent record/a permanent mark on every one of his school and medical records; needing rehabilitation into society/needing rehabilitation for his suicide attempt; trapped in a cell/trapped in his mind.

 

Then he started his prescription, Zoloft, and the drugs took an immediate hold on him. All the side effects manifested: fatigue, acne, constipation, weight gain. Lying in bed, with nothing but his ugly body trapping him there with his thoughts, he felt more disgusting, more burdensome, more useless than he’d ever felt.

 

But his friends rallied. Mikael most of all, who showed up most days after school with another film they knew Even hadn’t seen, forced him to drink water or eat half a banana, brushed his hair back and gave him updates on the unfolding dramas at Bakka— who got into a fight, who got dumped, who hooked up that weekend in the state-of-the-art cinema on campus.

 

They never expected him to respond, and never pushed him for answers. They just let him be, but insisted he accept that his friends still wanted to take care of him.

 

As much as Even loved them for it, it also made him resent them a little. He hated feeling pitied. He hated feeling like he had to be taken care of. It was so much more natural for him to take care of someone else.

 

To lie in bed all day and be fussed over just made him angry and bitter; it felt all wrong.

 

One particularly black day in March, Sana made an unannounced visit. He hadn’t seen her since before his episode, and when she walked into his room, she acted as if she’d only seen him the previous day, telling him about Elias’s last vlog where he and the rest of the squad played some SMS roulette game, and about her friend Chris, fixating on some blonde guy, who was friends with Eva’s ex Jonas.

 

She never paused to let Even speak, seeming to understand he wouldn’t anyway. He began to wonder why she was there, sensing that there was another purpose, until she started talking about a book she’d read that week.

 

‘Yeah, I’d been meaning to get to this for ages,’ she said, waving around a thick tome, Simone de Beauvoir’s _The Second Sex_. ‘It’s great, and it led me down this whole rabbit hole of books I’d never come across about how physicality and gender do—or don’t—correspond. And about sexuality. You might like it.’

 

She left it on his bedside table, and immediately commenced another monologue about her friend Noora and her terrible boyfriend that no one liked.

 

When Sana left, Even fell asleep, exhausted just from listening, but when he woke up again, he saw the book on his bedside table and opened it to the first page.

 

He’d never read a feminist book before. He’d never read about gender before, either. His understanding of sexuality was reduced to a vague concept of people either being straight or gay—the fact that, as a cisgendered man, he’d felt attraction to many people, didn’t fit at all.

 

But reading that book forced him to reconsider how he understood gender, which made him reconsider how he understood sex, which made him reconsider how he understood sexuality.

 

It was the spark that set him onto an immediate hungry search for more information. He discovered there was a word for him, and a flag, and a community, and an entire world of people who knew what it was like to feel this way. Thousands and thousands of people who wore their pansexuality as a literal and metaphorical badge of honour.

 

He followed countless blogs and websites about gender studies, LGBT+ charities, political lobbying, and social media accounts of famous queer celebrities and theorists.

 

Sana had opened up his worldview with one simple book suggestion.

 

It made him want to know more. And for the first time in a long time, he wanted to get better.

 

And when Mikael came out as non-binary soon thereafter, they chose Even to be the first person who knew.

 

 

\--

 

 

Shortly before noon, Mikael knocked on Even’s door, which, when opened, revealed them standing with a big grin on their face, and a white paper box in their hands.

 

‘Cake is the language of love,’ they said, happily, ‘Can I come in?’

 

Even led them in without a word and eased himself under the bedcovers. Mikael took the cue, opened their laptop, and put on _Moulin Rouge_. Even let out a disbelieving huff.

 

‘Hey,’ they said, ‘I know you can’t resist the _Luhr_ -mann of Baz.’

 

Even groaned. ‘Get out of my house.’

 

‘Come on! That was a good one!’ Mikael laughed, and kissed Even’s cheek.

 

‘That was as painful as Satine’s TB.’

 

‘Whoa, man, dark,’ Mikael said, winding an arm around Even’s chest, as the film rolled, the first words of _Nature Boy_ playing in the background.

 

‘You wanna talk about it?’

 

‘No,’ Even said carefully.

 

‘Right. You saw Åse yesterday?’

 

‘Yeah.’

 

‘What did you talk about?’

 

‘The usual,’ Even replied curtly.

 

‘What did she say?’

 

‘The usual,’ Even said, with even more irritation.

 

‘Ok, message received,’ Mikael said, with a chuckle, tightening their grip on Even.

 

It was comforting, so comforting just to be held.

 

They watched the whole film together, but Even could barely stay awake.

 

‘Is it ok if I kiss you?’ Mikael asked, just as Even was drifting into sleep. He shook himself awake, looked down at Mikael’s upturned face, and nodded.

 

Mikael leaned forward and kissed Even gently, so gently, just lips against lips, before bringing their left hand up and holding Even’s jaw. Mikael’s stubble was prickly on Even’s chin, they smelled faintly of mint toothpaste, and slightly too much cologne.

 

Then their teeth were suddenly wrapped around Even’s lower lip, biting gently.

 

They let out a low moan, and let their tongue glide slowly across Even’s lips, before pushing into Even’s mouth, when they moaned again.

 

Even could not get it out of his mind that he was kissing _Mikael_ , the person he’d had an unrequited crush on for what felt like his entire life, and now that it was happening, now that he had Mikael in his arms, he didn’t really feel … anything.

 

He liked kissing them, he liked that they were so attracted to him, and he loved them—as a friend. Which was fine, because they were friends, with benefits, so it made sense that’s how he felt.

 

And now Isak was so clear about how he felt about mental health, Even’s decision was out of his hands.

 

But still, as Mikael started to pant, and slide their left leg up so that it was draped across Even’s hips, until they were almost straddling him, Even felt completely disengaged.

 

The feeling of Mikael’s lips against his abruptly felt wrong, like he was kissing a stranger.

 

He pulled back and looked at their flushed face, breath coming heavy, as they gazed at him.

 

‘Is—is this ok?’ they asked.

 

‘Mik, I’m sorry, I’m just not…I told you I was down, and I can’t get out of my own head.’

 

Mikael quickly rolled off of Even and sat cross-legged on the bed next to him, readjusting their shirt, and nodding too intently. ‘Yeah, yeah, sure. I get it. Of course. Yeah. We don’t have to do anything.’

 

Even sighed. He should just tell them. He couldn’t have Isak, and it wasn’t fair to treat Mikael like a consolation prize.

 

‘Mik, I don’t think we should do this anymore,’ Even said, weighing each word carefully.

 

‘What? What are you saying?’

 

‘We’re friends. We’re better off as just friends. This is not going to work out.’

 

‘You’re just cutting yourself off from a good thing, Even,’ they said, ‘Don’t make these decisions when you’re down.’

 

‘I know how I feel, Mik,’ Even replied, unable to hide the annoyance from his voice. Mikael knew better than to make decisions for him.

 

‘Right now, yeah, you feel a bit down. But tomorrow you might not. We don’t have to do anything today. Don’t make any rash decisions, you know?’

 

Even’s bile rose at that. Mikael was starting to sound just like his parents, just like Sonja, just like Åse.

 

‘You don’t get to tell me how to live my life, Mik. I know my mind.’

 

Mikael paused, and then took a deep breath. ‘Ev, I know this is a sore subject but…have you taken your meds—’

 

‘Oh fuck _right_ off,’ replied Even, turning over on his side, putting his back to Mikael. ‘Fuck all the way off. Not everything in my fucking life comes back to my ADHD. Or my anxiety. Or my depression. Or whether or not I’ve taken my pills that morning. _Faen,_ I can live without that shit.’

 

He knew his anger was as much about the rejection he felt from Isak’s denunciation of the mentally ill, as it was about Mikael monitoring him.

 

But he couldn’t stop the flare of hurt in his heart, along with the sore realisation that he _hadn’t_ taken his Zoloft yet. And then with a twinge of worry and anger, he realised he couldn’t remember when he had taken it last.

 

‘I’m sorry.’ The remorse was audible in their voice. ‘I don’t mean to play nurse, I just—you’re down. And I want to help. And I don’t think you making these calls while you’re down is going to help.’

 

‘That’s the point, Mik. It’s _my_ call. And I want you to leave now, please.’

 

Mikael reached out and put a hand on Even’s shoulder.

 

He shook it off. ‘Just leave.’

 

While Mikael gathered up their things, Even felt the sneaking sense of shame at how badly he’d handled that. Getting irritated and snappy was not the answer.

 

He let himself cry silently, making sure Mikael couldn’t hear him.

 

‘I’m—I’m gonna head out. Text me when you’re feeling better, yeah?’

 

Even didn’t respond, just waited to hear the sound of the front door fall shut.

 

As soon as it did, he got up and searched for his bottle of Zoloft in the mirror cabinet in his en-suite. As he tipped out the pills into his hand, he glanced down at the sink and took a deep breath, trying to swallow down his feelings first.

 

Then his eyes wandered over to the toilet, as his grip on the bottle tightened. He really could live without that shit.

 

After another few moments’ deliberation, Even took advantage of his impulses, emptied the bottle into the toilet bowl, and flushed.

 

 

\--

 

 

Even slept most of the rest of the day, all night, and almost missed his alarm the next morning, He walked into the bathroom, showered, and when he opened his cabinet to take out the pills, he remembered with a jolt they wouldn’t be there.

 

He continued brushing his teeth.

 

That night, instead of the usual spiral of self-loathing that lulled him to restless sleep, he fell back on the pillows and drifted calmly away.

 

\--

 

 

Monday started with chemistry ( _something about pH tests_ ), maths (geometry, supposedly), Norwegian (some Tarjei Vesaas poems), gym ( _sweat_ ), lunch (spent walking around Frogner park), biology ( _I wish Isak could explain eukaryotes and prokaryotes to me_ ), English (the future perfect tense), and study period (half homework, half daydream about Isak’s ass).

He noticed his mood turn up a bit – he could concentrate through all of his classes. That was unusual. It was remarkable.

It was like his ADHD took a holiday for once, he didn’t have to try his usual tricks to focus.

It was like he had been using a blurry lens on his camera and it was finally clean.

 

\--

 

Tuesday.

He started to really enjoy this new-found productivity, and his parents were smiling when he told them.

It was only when his parents joked about Åse _finally getting through to him_ that he realised where this sudden concentration came from.

He was finally free of the fucking meds that kept him in a haze.

And he didn’t have the usual side effects of stopping his Zoloft cold turkey. He wasn’t dizzy or disorientated, his sleep was better than it had been in a long time, and his skin and weight hadn’t changed.

He burst out in a disbelieving laugh right there at the dinner table while his parents looked at him in bemused confusion. He waved them off and made an excuse about remembering a funny joke Eva had told him at lunch.

But in his mind he circled around the discovery that the meds weren’t helping him, they were hindering him.

The veil he’d worn over his eyes, without knowing it was there, was finally ripped off, and everything he saw was lit up and in high definition for the first time.

 

\--

 

Wednesday and Thursday were fast. Even worked late, riding the high of his new sharp focus. The only inconvenient thing was how restless he felt—he wanted to do so many things, and all at once, that he couldn’t stay too long on just one project. He needed to do more. He needed to do everything.

The future perfect continuous tense is used to project ourselves forward in time and to look back: to say what we will achieve between now and the imaginary point in time [ _I will have married Isak_ ] this tense is speaking from.

trea ved stranda er ikkje tre  
men du og eg heilt stille,  
og stranda er inga strand  
eller grense meir.

> the trees on the shore are not trees  
>  but you and I alone in silence,  
>  and the shore is no longer any shore  
>  or boundary.

_\--I should have told him about this poem in the tree--_

_\--_ Eukaryotic cells are more complex than prokaryotes, _Isak Isak Isak would love this, he knows biology_ and the DNA is linear and found within a nucleus--

\--that being said, in Euclidean plane geometry, a quadrilateral is a polygon with four edges (or sides) and four vertices or corners--

_\--men du og eg heilt stille, heilt stille, heilt stille--_

 

 

\--

 

 

The (albeit minor) depression that had set him back on the weekend had evaporated quicker than he’d ever experienced before.

 

He knew in the back of his mind that there might be consequences, but he didn’t want to focus on that. Isak had said _Life is now_ and that’s all he really felt.

Everything was happening now.

_Now_.

 

And right now, at midnight on Thursday, Even was hornier than he’d felt in a long, long time. It had been rippling under his skin all day, since he woke up from the glimpse of a dream about Isak—wriggling, desperate, sweating, blissed—and had to quash his morning wood so he didn’t miss the bus.

 

*** *** ***

 

But now, Even was lying out in his bed, letting his mind wander at liberty, right back to the look on Isak’s face when Even told the boy squad the meaning of _Ayreh feek_. How Isak’s chest was heaving. How his mouth was open. How his jeans had explicitly revealed how much Isak responded to Even’s insinuation.

 

Then Even imagined there was no one else in the room.

_It was just him and Isak. Even kept drinking as Isak put his beer bottle down and walked confidently over to him. He stood at Even’s knees, then, and tapped one of them. Curious, Even looked up at him and Isak smirked and tapped his knee again. Instinctively, Even brought them together and looked at Isak again, who nodded smugly and then sat down in Even’s lap, bringing both hands to the back of Even’s neck, one spreading fingers into his hair._

_Shit_ , Even thought, as he reached his hand down on top of his boxers, where his dick was already half-hard. With his other hand, he reached into his bedside cabinet and pulled out the lube.

_Isak leaned down and kissed Even with immediate want, licking into his mouth, humming, tightening his hold in Even’s hair. Even’s hands went to Isak’s hips and pulled him further into his lap, so that he was sitting right on top of his dick._

 

Even flipped open the lube, ignored the small turn of shame in his gut, squirted out a dollop onto his now hard dick, and threw the bottle to the side, grasping his tip in his hand and squeezing, twisting his hand on the downstroke and again on the way up. Suddenly his mind jumped forward and his fantasy accelerated into something else.

_Isak, still clothed, now hovered over a fully naked Even on his bed, sucking hickeys into his collarbones. Even moved to take off his hoodie at least, but Isak smacked his hand away, smirking, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, ‘You’re not the boss tonight.’_

_Then, one of Isak’s hands drifted down and gently held onto Even’s balls, tugging just slightly, while Even whined high in his throat._

 

Sweating now, shaking his head in pleasure, Even sped up the movement on his dick, and his fantasy jumped forward again.

_Isak, naked now, except for his snapback, was lying between Even’s legs, wrapping his dick in perfect, wet heat, before abruptly pulling off. Even groaned in protest and lifted his head from the pillows to find out what happened, only to see Isak’s smug smile. Frowning, he raised an eyebrow in question, as Isak grabbed his knees, and pushed them up into his chest, leaving him utterly exposed, and more aroused than he’d ever felt. He was so turned on, he could feel his heartbeat in his_ ass _. He let his head fall back again, and heard Isak’s quiet, ‘Fuck, babe. I want to rim you.’_

_Even had no words for that, and the next thing he felt the perfect, wet heat of Isak’s tongue on his rim, licking, humming, and dipping inside._

 

Lost in the pursuit of his orgasm, Even suddenly heard himself, moaning loudly and keening, just at the thought of Isak between his legs. He needed something, though, something else to push him over the edge at last.

His mind frantically flitted through images, sounds, tastes of sex to try and get there, but nothing was enough. He forced his mind’s eye to focus, at that imagined feeling of Isak’s tongue bringing him to pleasure.

_‘Isak, Isak, Isak,’ Even chanted, nearly screaming. Isak pulled away and put his hands on Even’s stomach, trying to calm him, as he kissed up his chest, neck, jaw._

_‘Babe,’ Isak whispered. ‘Babe, I want you.’_

_‘What do you want?’ Even moaned. ‘You can have anything you want.’_

_Isak rested his legs on either side of Even’s hips. His hands cupped around his neck. He leaned down and spoke lowly into Even’s ear, ‘I want to fuck you.’_

 

At that, Even’s back arched off the bed, his eyes flew open, and rolled back in his head, as he felt himself push over the edge into filthy, heavenly bliss.

 

\--

 

*** *** ***

 

In the back of his mind, Even was worried that dropping the anti-depressants cold turkey would bring back the side effects, but after four days of nothing except an increasing sense of freedom—and concomitant elation—he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of giving them up before.

 

He had more energy than he ever remembered having.

 

He didn’t even need to eat or sleep that much anymore—he’d finally released himself from the stupor the meds had tried to trap him in, and now he could live his life to the fullest.

 

He felt like he could live in ways he’d been forbidden to before.

 

And it was an ecstatic kind of beauty.

 

 

\--

 

 

Friday morning, Even bounded into school, having nearly missed his bus because he’d spent too long going through his wardrobe trying to find something appropriate to wear to match his mood.

 

He couldn’t find it in him to feel stressed or harried, though he was running ten minutes late, because he just knew this day was going to be a good one.

 

And, sure enough, as he rounded the corner to get to his Norwegian class, he ran full-speed into an equally rushed Isak.

 

They crashed into each other with such force that Isak fell backwards, Even tripping on top of him until they were lying flat on the floor, faces just centimeters apart.

 

Even realised he was essentially straddling Isak—a wonderful frame from Even’s wet dream—and Isak was staring up at him with surprise before his face twisted into frustration and he started shoving Even off him.

 

He sat up, then stood up, brushing down his jeans. ‘What the fuck, man, watch where you’re going!’

 

‘I’m so sorry,’ Even repeated, barely repressing a chuckle as he lay on his back, ‘I’m late—’

 

‘Yeah, so am I, genius!’ Isak yelled, ‘ _faen_ , I just—I have to go.’

 

He turned to leave, but Even scrambled to his feet and grabbed Isak’s arm.

 

He knew he should stay away from Isak—somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that Isak wouldn’t like him once he knew the truth—but he couldn’t leave it be when he was so close. He just _knew_ he was meant to be with Isak, even if it was just for a little while, even for a few months, even for a night.

 

And he knew in his gut that he had to find out for sure.

 

‘Listen,’ he said, watching Isak’s frown deepen. ‘I didn’t get to see you when—’

 

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said coldly. ‘I had to go.’

 

‘Mahdi said … you left with Emma.’

 

Isak stilled, and the frown vanished from his face.

 

‘Yeah,’ he said, avoiding any eye contact, ‘She said she was sorry about the rumours—and she…well, she asked to get back together, so, one thing led to another.’

 

Even reeled back. ‘What kind of thing?’

 

‘Can we not talk about this now? I’m late,’ Isak said, sharply.

 

Even dropped his hand from Isak’s arm and nodded. ‘Of course, sorry. After school? I’ll text you?’

 

 ‘Yeah, fine.’ With that, Isak threw his rucksack over his shoulder, and jogged away.

 

 

\--

 

 

Even decided it had gone far enough. Now he’d broken it off with Mikael, there was nothing left to just let him tell Isak. He just had to tell him.

 

They kept missing connections and miscommunicating, and it had gone on for far too long. It didn’t matter that he might have hooked up with Emma. Even just knew Emma wasn’t meant for him.

 

And Isak had to know the truth about Even’s feelings. Fuck it, he didn’t need to know everything—some things, in fact, he should never know about—but he needed to know how much Even wanted him.

 

Even had a great feeling about it. Now he’d decided he was going to tell Isak, all that was left to do was make it happen. It was the right thing to do.

 

And Isak might feel the same. He was going to tell him, and Isak was going to know, and anything could happen after that.

 

He knew Isak felt more than he let on. And he knew at the very least he’d listen and understand.

 

God, Even couldn’t wait to tell him. He had to know. And when he knew, there was the chance—however unlikely—that he’d reciprocate.

 

And how glorious that would be.

 

 

\--

 

Even texted Isak after school to meet him at KB.

 

If it all went well, Even hoped, he’d bring him to the planetarium in the Museum of Science and Technology and kiss him right then and there under the stars.

 

He was going to kiss him. He was going to finally fucking kiss him, if it fucking killed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! The burn! So slow!
> 
> But, forewarned is forearmed: the next chapter is all fluff and then aaalllllllll smut. It's gonna bump the fic rating from Mature to Explicit. So for those of you who don't want that, I'll section off the explicit scenes with ***
> 
> (Also the next chapter title is going to be, 'Am I boring you now')
> 
> Any and all comments appreciated <3 Thanks so much to everyone who's read this, it means a lot.


	8. Am I boring you now?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even meets Isak KB and brings him to the planetarium, but it doesn't go as planned. Featuring another trip to the polet, a game, a dare, an escape, and a long night at the kollektiv.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Some ableist thoughts; Explicit scenes sectioned off with *** as usual. Tags have been updated to include TWs for certain sexual acts: dirty talk; praise kink; blowjobs; anal fingering; prostate massage; edging; dom/sub undertones; the boys are vers;

At 15,30 Even bounded into KB and saw the familiar mop of curly blonde hair under a maroon snapback.

He nearly ran over to the stool he was perched on, and didn’t stop himself from wrapping both arms around Isak from behind, despite his protesting ‘Ooof!’

‘Hey. Glad you came,’ Even said into his neck.

_Fuck, he smells good._

Isak scoffed. ‘You act like you haven’t seen me in years.’

‘Feels like it,’ Even mumbled against his skin.

He squeezed Isak more, and moved his nose up, up, up, behind Isak’s ear, into his curls, and breathed in, and out. Isak was so warm, so soft, and he felt so good in Even’s arms.

He didn’t miss the responsive shiver down Isak’s spine, or how his breath came faster. Still, Isak huffed and shrugged Even away.

Even smiled, let Isak go, and sat down in the stool next to him, facing him properly.

_Now or never._

‘Mikael and I are not together, and we were never serious, and I don’t feel for them that way.’

Startled, Isak let out a laugh. ‘Fuck, I was expecting at least ten minutes of beating around the bush.’

Even grinned and leaned forward. ‘You know what I was listening to last night?’

Unfazed by Even’s sudden change of topic, Isak crossed his arms. ‘I’m going to say … some shitty pop music from 5 years ago?’

‘You’ll like Gabrielle eventually, I guarantee it,’ Even said, grinning ever wider now. ‘But no. I was listening to a song on repeat. Because I feel like it says everything that needs to be said.’

‘Is it “Independent Woman”? Because it is a great song, but—’

‘The world is not good enough, we are perfect.’

 ‘What?’ Isak said. ‘Is that a song?’

‘Yeah. And the chorus just keeps saying, “The world is not good enough; we are perfect.”’

Isak stared at Even, a blush colouring both cheeks, but a noticeable insecurity in his eyes.

 

The two boys sat in the café just watching each other for a few moments, as Even tried to convey his sincerity with a small smile, and Isak examined him closely, seeming to doubt how serious he was.

 ‘So. This coffee,’ Isak said, breaking the tension, ‘it was just to tell me you and Mikael aren’t—’

 ‘Yeah,’ Even replied. ‘And to get you alone. And ask if you were free the rest of the evening. And if you were, to bring you to the planetarium.’

 Isak gaped at him. ‘The planetarium?’

 ‘Yep. The planetarium. To see the stars. It’s cloudy tonight so we won’t see jackshit outside. And you love space and stuff, so I wanted to hang out with you. Under the stars.’

 ‘…I don’t understand.’

 ‘What do you mean?’ Even asked.

 ‘You want to bring me … to the planetarium. To hang out.’

 ‘Exactly!’

 Isak frowned. ‘Is this— are you—’

 ‘I want to take you out on a date,’ Even said, definitively. ‘And you love space. So, let’s go to where the space stuff is.’

 Isak paused, forced an eye roll that did not match his sudden blush, and said, ‘You’re a fucking dork, you know that.’

 Even smiled widely at him and reached out to gently touch Isak’s knee. Isak stilled at the contact and stared at Even’s hand, lightly squeezing him. Even saw through his hesitance.

 ‘Isak,’ he breathed.

 He leaned forward more, trying to see how many different kinds of green he could find in Isak’s irises.

 Isak did not move.

 Even could smell that he was wearing aftershave, something warm, maybe cinnamon, or cardamom.

 ‘Isak,’ he whispered again, desperately.

 Isak’s gaze dropped to Even’s lips as he whispered back, ‘Even…’

 Even made the decision.

 

‘Let’s go.’

 

\--

 

They hopped on the 12 tram northwards to Kjelsås. Even had mapped it out on his phone beforehand, once he remembered the museum was 40 minutes out of the city, almost on the shore of Lake Maridal.

Within a few minute the intercom announced, ‘ _Dette er linje tolv, via Grünerløkka, og Torshov, til Disen_.’

Disen. He tried to forget about that. Focus on Kjelsås. On the planetarium. On Isak.

As they travelled through Løkka, the tram got steadily busier and more crowded with people finishing work. When they got to Olaf Ryes plass, Isak’s right shoulder and elbow were pressed right up against Even’s ribs in the crush of commuters.

‘Here,’ Even grunted out, ‘just turn—this way—’ as he guided Isak so that they were facing each other. It was more comfortable, certainly, but Isak’s face was now just inches from Even’s.

‘There,’ Even said, satisfied, ‘much better.’

The only problem was, Isak was now standing between Even and the pole, and as they were shunting forward again, Even couldn’t help but fall back against a couple of businessmen behind him.

Isak grabbed on to his arms and pulled him forward again, as they both muttered apologies to the irritated men next to them.

Isak whispered, ‘You have to hold on to something.’

Even looked up and saw that all the ceiling hooks were taken by other commuters. He looked down at Isak and smirked, moving both his hands around Isak’s waist, and holding on to the pole at his back.

With their lips almost touching, Even said, ‘Fixed.’

Isak stared at him, until he tilted his chin up.

Even could feel his breath on his cheek for a moment, when Isak’s eyes darted to his left, noticing some passengers eyeballing them, and he reeled back from Even, ducking his head and trying to put as much space between them as possible.

 

\--

 

It only got worse from there.

When they finally arrived at the museum at 16,45, Even was eager to get Isak alone in the planetarium. He ran forward to pull the door open in a flourish.

Except it didn’t budge.

‘You’re kidding!’ Even exclaimed, suddenly feeling his plans slip away from him. He looked at the opening times sheet in the window, and sure enough—the museum shut 45 minutes earlier.

Isak pulled on Even’s sleeve. ‘It’s cool, let’s just head back to town and get a kebab or something.’

Even threaded his hands through his hair. ‘Faen I’m sorry. I should have checked. I’m such an idiot. This is such an epic fucking fail. Shit. I’m an asshole.’

‘It’s ok, really,’ Isak assured him, slightly concerned at how badly Even reacted to the closed door. ‘Let’s get back on the tram, it’s getting cold out here.’

Turning heel and walking back felt like a declaration of failure, but they had to do it anyway. He couldn’t look Isak in the eye.

 

\--

 

Once back on the tram, Even frantically tried to think of a plan B, anything that could patch up this complete flop.

‘You’re so overthinking this,’ Isak said. ‘We can see the planetarium any day. This isn’t a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I am, however, fucking starving.’

Even let out a small laugh and felt his heart swell. He’d messed up, and Isak was comforting him.

He knew now, this boy was it for him.

And they hadn’t kissed yet. Fuck. That needed to be fixed as soon as possible.

 

‘Ok,’ Even said, ‘new plan.’

Isak looked at him expectantly. ‘I hope it involves food.’

Even spoke before he registered the words: ‘We’ll go to the Bislett Kebab on Thorvald Meyers gata, then I’ll buy you beer at the polet at Kiellands plass.’

Isak laughed. ‘What’s the beer for?’

‘It’s partly apology, and partly the new plan.’

‘The new plan?’ Isak repeated, with a smirk.

Now the idea was in his head, Even was running with it. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it before. It had everything: beer, privacy, a hint of taboo, and—most importantly—Isak alone with him.

‘Yes,’ Even continued, ‘The new plan. To go drinking in the cemetery.’

Isak raised his eyebrows.

‘Uhm…you didn’t have enough of illegal drinking at the bonfire?’

‘Nope,’ Even replied, smiling widely now.

‘Uhhh if you want to get arrested, then, sure, let’s do it.’

Even rolled his eyes. ‘We won’t get arrested unless we get caught. So we just won’t get caught!’

‘Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s what everyone in jail usually says, right before they get caught.’

‘Don’t worry your pretty head, Isak.’

At that, Isak blanched and looked carefully at Even. ‘Even…I don’t know. Are you…have you taken something? You seem—I don’t know, you seem different today.’

‘Come on, Isak. You’ve been with me all day. You think I’ve been doing lines of coke in between flirting shamelessly with you?’

‘It’d explain the shameless flirting, alright.’

Even stepped closer into Isak’s personal space, noticing how he took a sudden breath, and lowly murmured into his ear.

 

‘I don’t need anything to want you. Or to make you want me.’

 

And just as quickly, Even stepped back.

‘We’re gonna go drinking with Ibsen and Munch tonight,’ he continued, as if he hadn’t just made Isak nearly come in his pants. ‘It’s been a while since they had a binge.’

‘Isn’t…isn’t the cemetery locked at night?’

‘The fence is four feet tall, Isak. I think we’ll manage.’

 

\--

 

They get a six pack each from the Kiellands plass vinmonopolet as planned. While they wandered to the cemetery, the only light guiding them was from the streetlamps overhead as it smattered the pavement along the tree-lined avenue.

Despite the cold, they both walked with their hands out of their pockets, knuckles and fingers occasionally glancing touches as they moved.

Even couldn’t help but remember the last time he’d walked through the cemetery with Isak—the first time they’d hung out. It felt like so long ago now, like a distant dream, and he’d woken up to the reality of really being alone with Isak, having him here by his side, the whole night enveloping them in cold, bright freedom.

Even knew he had to make it happen. He was watching the scene play out in front of him and he needed to shout out the next direction.

‘You know, I have one condition.’ Isak interrupted his thoughts.

‘Oh?’

‘Last time we walked through this place you bored me to tears with facts about Munch. Let’s just drink like normal people,’ he said, without suppressing his wide smirk.

_Now’s the time._

Without warning, Even dropped the bag of beer, grabbed Isak by the waist, and pushed him up against the fence.

‘Am I boring you now?’ he asked, squeezing his fingers into Isak’s hips, leaning forward so their thighs, stomachs, chests were touching, noses almost together.

Isak’s smile had gone; his mouth was slightly open as his chest heaved. He stared unabashedly at Even’s lips.

His hands had immediately gone to Even’s upper arms while being shoved against the fence, but now he caressed them up and down, from Even’s elbows to his shoulders and back, before gently holding on to either side of his neck, pressing his thumb onto Even’s pulse point.

‘You’re not talking about Munch, so that helps,’ Isak muttered, his smirk returning.

‘You know I only told you that to try and impress you,’ Even replied, brushing his nose against Isak’s in a tender eskimo kiss. _Why are we talking, why the fuck are we talking, I need to just kiss him, I need to kiss him fucking now._

‘You didn’t need to tell me anything to impress me,’ Isak muttered, before he took matters into his own hands, pushing Even away from him, and around, back against the railing, where he pinned Even further against the fence, edging his thigh between Even’s legs.

Even felt his heart in his throat.

‘Relax,’ Isak whispered, and closed the distance between them, kissing Even—on the cheek.

‘What – what are you doing?’ Even asked, not trying to hide his confusion.

‘I won’t aggressively make out with you,’ Isak said, his smile in full force now, as he rubbed his thigh against Even’s crotch, until he added, ‘…here.’

‘What is _happening_ –’

‘I know you,’ Isak replied, his hands stroking Even’s sides, ‘and I know you don’t want our first kiss to be on the side of some street. So I’m cutting the tension and continuing with our plan until you fucking pull yourself together.’

With that, Isak picked up the bag of beer and placed it on the ground on the other side of the fence, before he hopped over to join it.

He turned, saw Even standing still in shock, and laughed. ‘You need a hand, or what?’

He jerked his head towards the trees, and walked, knowing Even would follow.

‘Our _first_ kiss—?’ Even shouted after him, to which he only heard the sound of Isak’s chuckle from the shadows of yew and ivy.

 

\--

 

Using the flashlight on his phone, Even soon found Isak, and the two wandered to Ibsen’s grave, where they sat on the grass verge next to the tombstones, the faint outline of the obelisk barely visible in the low light.

‘Shit,’ Isak muttered as they drank their first cans, ‘we didn’t factor in how fucking cold it would be out here.’

‘Yeah,’ Even replied, his teeth chattering, ‘you’d think we’d have remembered. It being, you know, a late night in Norway.’

‘We need to keep moving. To keep warm.’

With that, Isak’s head snapped up. ‘I have an idea.’

‘Ok, this should be good.’

‘We play a drinking game,’ he said, ‘like a pub crawl. But it’s a grave crawl. We drink a beer at all the famous graves in here.’

Even laughed. ‘That – that is –’ _ridiculous, hilarious, cute_ ‘—completely genius.’

Isak nodded smugly.

‘But,’ Even continued, ‘there are a lot of famous dead people in here, and we only have five beers left each.’

This was unwelcome logic from Even, as Isak frowned and sighed. ‘Ok,’ he conceded at last, ‘we need to strategise.’

 _Fuck._ Even laughed again, though watching Isak was also making him horny as well as giddy. ‘Jeez, Isak, only you would talk “strategy” about a drinking game.’

Ignoring him completely, Isak opened out his hand and counted on each of his fingers, ‘Five beers left? One for – Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson, Edvard Munch, Thomas Fearnley, Olaf Bull—’

‘We need at least one woman, Isak,’ Even interrupted, ‘How about Aasta Hansteen?’

Isak nodded, ‘Ok. Do you know where all their graves are?’

‘Bjørnson and Munch are just around the corner. We can Google the rest.’

Scrunching his nose up, Isak downed the last of his first can.

 

\--

They rushed the next two beers, knowing if they got drunk, the cold wouldn’t bother them so much anymore. That, and Even knew he needed some liquid courage.

Even’s heart was so full, watching this boy smile and wink and knock his head back whenever he laughed. He couldn’t believe his luck, just sitting in this dark cemetery, surrounded by reminders of everything that scared him the most, but focused entirely on the joyful boy in front of him.

  
And he realised something that made him pause and waver in surprise, something that required him to stop and look back on it as it slowly, inevitably, sunk in.

  
Isak made the terrifying parts of living a little easier to take.

 

They were at Munch’s grave now, and the bare outline of the bust on top of the plinth was just visible. Even looked back up at Isak, who was trying to find a song on his phone and explaining that he could rap along to it, and the bright white light illuminated his face in striking contrast to the gloom of the cemetery. His brows were scrunched up in concentration, as he bopped his head and absentmindedly hummed the lyrics.

It was a perfect frame—light and dark. And Even knew this was different. This was special.

Isak was more than the object of his desire, or his intrigue. Isak was a light in the dark.

 

At the same time, he knew it was doomed. He knew it was stupid, and irresponsible, and impulsive, just like him, and that he’d come to regret it. That Isak was seeing Emma, and this was hurting her, and that this was going to hurt Mikael. He knew, and he hated that he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Because all of those worries were nothing in comparison to the fact that Isak would never love him, not really. Isak would never love someone who was a psycho, mentally ill, untrustworthy, burdensome, thoughtless. Someone who knowingly led on their best friend just to make someone else jealous. Someone who literally and metaphorically flushed away all accountability for their mental illness just to feel normal. Someone who had recklessly dragged Isak into a fucking graveyard (?!) in the dead of night on a whim, because they couldn’t help themselves, they didn’t know what they were doing, they didn’t want it to stop.

Isak would never be in love with him, but maybe he could love him just for one night, and that might be enough. Maybe they could have that. Maybe he could give him that much.

 

Isak’s phone died before he could find the song, and he cursed loudly, interrupting Even’s spinning thoughts.

‘Faen, well, I’ll just have to show you later,’ he muttered, throwing back the last of his beer.

As he threw the can down, Even thought of a better idea to motivate them.

‘I bet you can’t down the rest of your beers in one go.’

Isak frowned at him. ‘But we were gonna grave crawl.’ It came out with more of a slur than either of them expected, and they both giggled at it.

‘Grave crawl sounds like we’re zombies or vampires or something, Isak.’

‘I mean, we could be the undead. We’re the only ones moving around here.’

‘You’re ignoring my challenge.’

‘Am not,’ Isak retorted, ‘I’m making the point that we can’t do both. So if you really want to challenge me—and you will lose, my friend—you have to … you have to …’

At that, Isak lost his train of thought. ‘What was I saying? Yes! You have to choose. Challenge or crawl.’

‘I say challenge. I lied about being able to find the other graves on Google. I have no idea where they are.’

‘You lied!’ Isak shrieked in mock offence. ‘How _dare_ you—’

‘So, the challenge.’

‘Right.’ Isak pursed his lips in focus. ‘Ok. What happens to the winner?’

‘They get a nude of the loser.’

Isak burst out a laugh. ‘You and your nudes. No, that’s not a good enough reward.’

Even held his hand over his heart and gaped at Isak. ‘Have I not explained at length that my nudes are works of _art_ —’

‘Yeah but you just said you bet I couldn’t beat you, but if you think you’re sending me a nude, that means you think you’re gonna lose.’

Even slumped his shoulders. ‘Damn. You got me there.’

‘Right. So we need a better reward.’

 

Even pondered.

Until Isak interrupted him, ‘Ok. How about the winner gets to dare the loser to do something?’

Even smiled to himself. ‘Fine.’

At that, Even swiftly pulled open the ring on his next beer can and chucked it back.

 

‘Hey! What the hell!’ Isak yelled, as Even raised his middle finger and finished his beer.

‘Come on,’ he replied, ‘keep up.’

Even upped the ante, trying to force his throat open. He needed this dare.

As Even downed his fifth beer, Isak was opening his. They each opened their sixth at the same time, nodding in synch, before throwing them back, keeping an eye open on each other. Even desperately choked back the beer and noticed Isak slowing slightly, not taking the gulps he had earlier.

Still, when Even threw down his sixth can just seconds before Isak, Isak wheezed out, ‘You—you cheated. You got a head start.’

‘You think there are rules here?’ Even laughed.

‘I can’t take losing like that. It’s completely unacceptable.’ Though said in jest, Even could hear Isak’s underlying competitive nature being genuinely upset.

‘Fine,’ Even said, ‘You get a dare as a concession prize.’

‘I don’t want a pity prize! I want a rematch!’

‘Well we’re out of beer, genius,’ Even laughed.

‘Give me the dare then.’

‘I already did—?’

‘No! The only dare. No bullshit concession dare.’

‘You are the most demanding 17-year-old I know.’

‘Even!’

Even rolled his eyes and sighed, though his indignation was mostly for show. He loved this. He loved how pissy Isak got, it was strangely endearing.

‘Fine,’ he said, waving his hand. ‘What’s the dare?’

Isak seemed momentarily surprised at Even conceding the dare, but soon smiled, and kept his gaze fixed on Even.

  
He stared. And kept staring.

Too long a pause remained after Even’s question, until he almost spoke up again to poke fun at Isak not thinking of anything, when Isak suddenly said:

 

‘I dare you to finally fucking kiss me, idiot.’

 

It started as a bemused command, but by the time Isak finished speaking, the tenor of his voice exposed some of his desperation.

Even closed the distance between them immediately.

Isak’s lips were soft, so soft, and he let out a short, satisfied sigh. Even kissed him again.

He smelled Isak’s aftershave once more—definitely cardamom—and the beer, and then Isak was opening his mouth, hot breath on Even’s cheeks, and Even responded instinctively, tilting his head and tasting Isak in return.

He suddenly remembered he had hands, and he moved them up, up, up into Isak’s hair, pushing the snapback off, and grabbing two fistfuls of curls in his fingers.

At that, Isak involuntarily moaned against his lips, and circled his hands to Even’s lower back, pulling him in closer. He quickly grew more confident, and grasped Even’s ass in both palms.

 _Well this is warming us up_ , Even thought gleefully.

Feeling Isak’s hips against his own, hearing his breath catch and the too-loud sound of their lips as they kissed, tasting the tip of his tongue and teeth, Even was overcome. And it wasn’t enough.

 

He pulled Isak’s bottom lip between his own, biting gently, sliding his hands down from his hair to his neck. Then Isak pushed his thigh between Even’s.

 

Even let out a low groan and started kissing down Isak’s cheek and jaw, then kissing his neck, drawing some skin between his teeth and sucking, hard.

 

Isak tilted his head back immediately, letting out a loud sigh of pleasure, the sound of which drove Even to suck harder.

 

‘Fuck, Even, _yes_.’

 

The sounds of Isak getting off from just this was making Even desperate. He pulled back from Isak, glancing around to see if there was anything he could push him up against, and spotted the column that Munch’s bust was set on. That would do.

 

Even shoved Isak back until he was pressed into the granite pillar, ignoring Isak’s protesting sound of faux indignation.

 

Staring intently at him, Even grabbed his thighs and hoisted him further up against it, at which Isak let out another delicious moan, and locked his ankles behind Even’s legs. Even swiftly caught his lips in another frantic kiss.

 

Isak’s hands went through Even’s hair, caressing and tugging, as he licked into Even’s mouth.

 

‘We—we can’t do this here,’ he panted out, ‘we have to leave.’

 

Suddenly an angry voice shouted through the darkness, ‘ _Hei stoppe! Det er forbrytende. Bli hvor dere er!_ ’

 

‘Shit!’

 

Even dropped Isak at once. They couldn’t see anyone in the gloom, but a flashlight was being  
waved around in their direction, quickly zoning in on their faces.

 

‘ _Jeg ringer politiet! Dere drikker offentlig, dere skal bli arrestert!_ ’

 

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck,’ Isak cried, ‘come on!’

 

He held out his hand for Even to grab, and they sprinted away as quickly as they could manage.

 

\--

 

Once they reached the front door of Isak’s building, he anxiously tried to find the right key on his keyring, but in his fear, his fingers couldn’t stop shaking.

 

‘Hey, hey, it’s ok,’ Even soothed, ‘I got you.’

 

He took the keys away from Isak, who was still shouting—under his breath—‘Hurry the fuck up! We might have been followed!’

Even got the door open, and the two quickly ran upstairs, stopping for breath only when they were inside the kollektiv.

Once safely in Isak’s room, they fell back beside each other across Isak’s bed.

‘Fy faen, Even, I told you we were gonna get fucking caught.’

Even chuckled. ‘But we didn’t. We almost got caught.’

‘Almost! Almost? That guy was going to call the police! Faen, Even, that was fucking stupid and dangerous!’

‘It was,’ he agreed, but he chuckled again, thinking of how badly it could have gone, and how lucky they had been to get away. The high of escaping hit him all at once, and his laughter soon grew from amused to giddy to hysterical. He clutched his stomach with both hands, and Isak started to join in despite himself, laughing along, until the two boys lost their breath.

 ‘Sorry I almost got us arrested,’ Even said, once they’d both calmed down.

 ‘Worth it,’ Isak whispered.

 Even looked over at Isak then, and saw how quietly content he was, a small smile on his face, pupils blown, hair a mess—

 ‘Oh shit,’ Even muttered, staring at Isak’s hair.

 ‘What?’

 ‘We left your snapback back there.’

 ‘What? Oh, fuck. Fuck!’ Isak shrieked, sitting upright. ‘You think they can trace it back to me?’

 ‘Isak, it’s a grey NY snapback. There must be hundreds of them in Oslo. They’re not gonna run forensic tests on it to find out which horny kid was necking at Munch’s grave.’

 ‘But fuck we shouldn’t have left anything behind—’

 ‘We didn’t really have time to pick up the bag of beer cans for recycling, in fairness—’

 ‘Even, be serious for a minute—’

 ‘Ok,’ Even conceded, then promptly curled his hand around Isak’s neck and brought him in for a deep kiss.

 When a few minutes later, Isak realised Even was just going to keep kissing him, he pulled back and put a finger to Even’s lips.

 ‘Don’t try to distract me, it won’t work.’

 ‘Is that a challenge?’ Even asked, squeezing where he still had a hand on the back of Isak’s neck. He still couldn’t believe he had the right to this, that he was able to touch Isak like this, that they were lying in his bed, alone, and the whole night ahead of them.

 The thought made his stomach turn in the best way. He wanted this. He wanted it with every part of himself. And the high he’d started the day with was only getting higher, with the promise of touching Isak more and more, and the prospect of getting between his legs and bringing him to peak after peak of pleasure.

 Isak smirked at him, seemingly knowing exactly what Even was thinking about. ‘Yes,’ he said, confidently.

 Even raised his eyebrows and glanced down at Isak’s lips. He didn’t move, just stared and stared and stared at Isak’s lips. He could hear how Isak’s breath was already starting to quicken.

 

He then moved his other hand, traced the tips of his fingers up Isak’s thigh, first on the outside, then on the inseam, rubbing in gentle circles higher and higher until Isak’s eyes closed.

 As his hand moved up and up between Isak’s legs, he leaned forward and licked along Isak’s lips, teasing and teasing, but never giving him what he really wanted.

 Isak groaned and shook his head, muttering under his breath, torn between his stubbornness and his desire.

 Then he suddenly whispered, ‘ _Fuck it_ ,’ grabbed Even’s sides and pulled him in, frantically kissing him with all tongue and teeth, moaning again urgently as Even finally cupped around his now hard dick through his too tight jeans.

 Even rubbed gently along the zipper of Isak’s jeans, then kissed under his jaw, at which Isak let out another deep sigh.

 The series of moans, curses, and soft exhales that Isak was making, were bringing Even to the same level of excitement.

 He couldn’t hold back anymore, and grabbed Isak’s waist, rubbing his rapidly hardening dick against his hip.

 

With a strained hush, Even spoke into his throat, ‘I want you. I want you so bad, Isak.’

‘Jesus, _fuck_ , Even,’ Isak mumbled, ‘yes. _Yes_.’

 

\--

 

 

*** *** ***

 

Even had never had sex with a man before. Though his desire for Isak was almost overpowering every other sense, he was self-conscious enough about his lack of experience to also worry about how this would work.

He knew the theory—from many, many hours watching porn, and experimenting on himself—but that was a far cry from the immediate reality of Isak now being completely naked in front of and underneath him.

They had undressed each other slowly, pausing to give each other soothing kisses and touches that seemed to say, Relax, I got you. Now Even lay gently on top of Isak and moaned at the sensation of Isak’s hair between his fingers, the warmth of his groin pressing up between Even’s thighs, and Isak’s soft, hot skin that he could feel everywhere along his own body. They lay there for a while, just running hands over each other’s arms, chests, thighs, wanting to know the feel of every inch of the other.

Even blurted out, ‘You’re so fucking beautiful,’ as he dragged his fingers down Isak’s ribs, around his navel, down the V-line of his hips. ‘Look at you. Fuck.’

‘All this skin…you’re more than I could ever imagine.’

At Even’s involuntary outburst, Isak let out a frantic keen from the back of his throat, back arching and jaw clenching as he tried to contain how turned on he was from Even’s words alone.

‘You imagined me like this?’ Isak managed to say.

 

Even licked along his collarbone until the hollow at the base of his throat, where he buried the tip of his nose, and then pressed the tip of his tongue down as hard as he could, before starting on a hickey there.

‘Of course,’ he said, once he’d left an already visible mark, ‘of _course_ I imagined you like this.’ He ran his hands up and down Isak’s thighs as he continued murmuring into his neck.

‘I’ve been fantasising so often about what you sound like when you come, I feel like I’ve already heard it.’

Isak keened again, scratching his nails down Even’s shoulder blades and raising his knees to clasp Even’s hips.

‘Then—’ he panted, ‘—find out if you’re right.’

 

Despite how much Even could feel his already hard dick swelling further at Isak’s order, the sudden fear returned to Even. How should I do this? Fuck, what if I’m awful, what if he hates it, what if this all goes wrong—

‘Hey,’ Isak said quietly, ‘we—we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. Really.’ He clasped Even’s face between his hands and brought his legs back down on the bed.

‘I’m not gonna lie, I’m turned on as fuck, but if you don’t want to have sex, we can just kiss, cuddle, watch a movie. No big deal.’

With that, Even’s heart beat out a new rhythm just for Isak. To have already gone this far, crossed so many lines of intimacy, it felt like sex was a kind of inevitability. Not quite an obligation, but certainly a responsibility he somehow owed—which he knew was wrong, and unhealthy.

But here Isak was, refuting all those embedded anxieties without even knowing they were there.

He never knew someone asking for consent could be such a fucking turn on, but as he looked down at Isak, who was keeping his gaze with no hint of disappointment or judgment, Even felt the arousal run through him, a hot streak through all his pressure points.

‘I meant what I said, Isak. I want you,’ Even said confidently, ‘it’s just—I’ve never… I don’t want to do something wrong.’

His face now lighting up in a wide smile, Isak put his hand on Even’s neck and brought him down for a sweet kiss.

‘You won’t,’ he said assuredly. ‘And we can take it really slow. We don’t have to do everything right away. Just—tonight, we can just make each other feel good.’ As soon as he finished speaking, he flushed a deep red from his cheeks down his chest.

Even flushed, too, at Isak’s suggestion and dipped down to give him another wet kiss. It was hungry at once, Isak taking control immediately and licking deeply into Even’s mouth.

The kissing was a soother and exciter, both stimulating and calming Even’s nerves: he loved the feeling of Isak’s lips, demanding and soft and sure, and the smell of his skin, the taste of his sweat. He realised with an arousing shock that he could probably get off from just kissing Isak, however that was fucking possible.

The thought pushed Even to hold Isak’s thighs tighter around him, to moan into his mouth, whisper, ‘Yes, Isak,’ ‘Baby,’ ‘Fuck,’ whenever he parted from his lips.

Isak seemed to sense that Even needed to be given time, as he never pushed him to do anything, leaving the ball squarely in Even’s court. That didn’t stop him from moaning and keening as if he didn’t care who heard.

All at once, kissing was nowhere near enough for Even. He needed to taste Isak. He needed to know he could give him the pleasure he wanted. He needed to know for sure what he sounded like when he came.

‘I wanna make you feel incredible,’ Even whispered into Isak’s ear. He bit lightly on Isak’s earlobe and then buried his nose in Isak’s curls. ‘Can I?’

Isak apparently no longer had the power of speech, and so nodded vehemently.

 

\--

 

‘Even, Even, Even, Even, _Even_ —faen, Even—oh, _faen_ —’

Even never knew it could feel like this to bring someone else to the peak of pleasure. When he first took off Isak’s boxers, saw every inch of him now, exposed and aroused, he was hit again with a wave of anxiety about what to do. He loved being this intimate with him, and wanted to know exactly how he smelled, tasted, felt—but the fact of his pubes, dick, balls, being right there in front of him was more than a little intimidating.

When he first opened his mouth and licked across the slit, the sharp taste that spread across his tongue was shocking, but it happened simultaneous with Isak’s involuntary high-pitched whine, and his fingers curling in Even’s hair.

Encouraged by this, Even poked his tongue out again, remembering how good it felt when anyone did this to him, and licked from the base to the tip in one long glide, sucking the head between his lips for a few seconds as Isak’s thighs trembled.

He opened his jaw and closed his mouth around Isak’s dick, he had gotten used to the smell of sweat and sex and heat—the dirtiness of it somehow making it sweeter—and the taste of him—not like anything he’d tasted before, but it was Isak and that made it good.

But the reality of what he was doing made him feel, ironically, a little disconnected from him. Not being able to speak at all made him feel a little unsure.

Suddenly needing some reassurance, Even took hold of one of Isak’s hands, still in Even’s hair, and moved it down to the mattress, where he interlaced their fingers. Isak squeezed his hand and quietly said, ‘Baby,’ like he knew why Even needed that touch.

When Even started bobbing his head, clasping his other hand around the base of Isak’s dick and sliding it up and down with every stroke, Isak’s moans became louder and more incoherent, a mix of encouragement, Even’s name, and seemingly every curse word he knew.

‘ _Faen_ , Even, that’s so good. Fuck. I can’t—fucking—wait—to do this to—you—’

Even couldn’t help but moan at Isak’s confession, a sound which apparently made the blowjob more pleasurable still, as Isak yelped and arched his back.

‘Do—do that again, baby.’

Instantly Even did, and Isak raised his legs up, hugging his knees to his chest, moaning so loudly it was obscene.

‘I’m—shit, Even—if you don’t stop, I’m gonna—’

Isak tried to push Even’s head away, but Even swatted his hand off and sucked faster, then looked at Isak. As their eyes met, Isak whined again and ran his fingers through Even’s hair, and grabbed a fistful of it at the base of his neck. Knowing that Isak needed one final push over the edge, Even slowly traced his finger from his balls, across his perineum, and pushed it just slightly against Isak’s hole, and then he moaned around Isak’s dick again—and that was it.

Isak let out the loudest, longest wail of pleasure yet and clasped his knees around Even’s head. Even kept sucking him through it, trying to swallow everything, despite how overwhelming and still slightly scary it was to take it like this, to taste the acrid saltiness of his come, and submit to it.

 

 

*** *** ***

 

 

Once Isak’s orgasm slowly faded out, he let his legs fall down on the bed once more and tried to steady his breathing.

Even, too, tried to calm himself down, suddenly feeling more overwhelmed than he’d anticipated, like he’d crossed a line with himself, something that would take him a while to process.

He felt disconnected from Isak again, like the feelings they had for each other was separate from what he’d just done. It didn’t make any sense. And yet he felt like he’d cheapened everything.

‘Even, are you ok?’

He lifted his head from where it had been resting against Isak’s knee and looked up at him.

He didn’t know where to start. He didn’t understand this strange and powerful wave of emotions. And he didn’t want to ruin their first night together with it.

‘Of course, yeah, why?’

But it came out unconvincing, and Isak saw right through him. He reached down for Even and pulled him up until they were cuddling face to face.

‘Baby—what’s wrong?’

Even shook his head. ‘It’s nothing, really. I promise. Do you—did you—was it…ok?’

Cradling Even’s face in his hands, Isak leaned forward until their noses touched, and nodded.

‘Baby, how could you think it wasn’t? Did you not hear me screaming at an embarrassing volume?’

Despite Isak’s attempt to lighten the mood, his question hit home. And Even couldn’t stop the all-too-familiar sting behind his eyes.

Isak watched as a few silent tears fell from Even’s eyes. ‘Baby,’ he whispered.

‘I—I’m sorry, I just—’

‘It’s ok. I promise. I promise it’s ok. Just talk to me.’

Even nodded and took a moment to think through his explanation. Isak waited patiently, kissing his cheek, his forehead, his eyes.

‘It was a little overwhelming,’ he said at last.

Isak nodded, but didn’t push him for more, waited for him to continue at his own pace.

‘I—I didn’t like not being able to talk to you. I don’t know. I suddenly felt like it was just about sex. And obviously giving a blowjob is about sex. But I wanted to tell you how much I loved seeing you so turned on, how much I liked the feeling of your hot skin and the smell of you. How much I’ve wanted you like this. And something happened when you came, I—I felt like I lost you for a minute. I know it doesn’t make sense. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to explain it.’

Isak smiled and kissed him softly. Just that small gesture made Even’s shoulders relax—he hadn’t noticed til then they were tensed up.

‘I understand,’ Isak said quietly. ‘It felt like it was just about you doing something to me, rather than the two of us doing something together.’

‘Shit,’ Even replied. ‘Yeah. That’s…that’s exactly it.’

Isak nodded again. ‘I’m sorry, baby,’ he said, curling Even’s hair around his fingers soothingly, ‘that probably means we went a little too fast for you.’

‘But I—I want this, I want you—’

Isak nuzzled his nose again and quietly kissed him.

‘I know. But … I get it. I… you…’

Now Isak seemed lost for words, brow furrowed in frustration at not knowing how to say what he wanted to say.

Even carded a hand through his hair in silent encouragement.

At last, Isak breathed out heavily and said, ‘You already know I’m not out. I’ve been in the closet for a while. I mean, kind of in the closet. Jonas, I think, suspects. We almost talked about it one time we were drunk.’

Even nodded, but didn’t reply, knowing Isak needed time to talk.

‘So,’ Isak continued, ‘I … I know what it’s like. To want something and then also, kind of, be terrified when I get it?’

He closed his eyes and took another minute to collect his thoughts.

‘I … I had a Grindr profile for a while. Kept it anonymous, insisted that anyone I met up with told me their full name in advance so I could make sure they weren’t at Nissen, that it wouldn’t get back to me.’

Even kissed Isak’s forehead, wishing he could have been there for him earlier. This boy. This boy needed so much more than what he had.

‘So, I—I remember the first time I went down on a guy. I know how intimidating it can be that first time.’ Isak looked into Even’s eyes then, and smiled.

‘You were amazing, you know. And I’m not just talking about the blowjob.’

Even couldn’t help but chuckle at that. He kissed Isak again, softly, holding his cheek, hoping he understood from that action how much Even felt for him.

‘But,’ Isak said, with a suppressed smirk, ‘there is one thing…’

Narrowing his eyes, Even looked back at Isak and tried to surmise from his impish expression where this was going. ‘Ok…?’

Isak bit his bottom lip and leaned forward. Even expected another kiss, but instead Isak kept leaning forward until his lips were at Even’s ear.

‘I told you I couldn’t wait to do it to you – can I?’

Even gripped Isak tighter and let out a deep, frustrated sigh. ‘Please.’

 

 

\--

 

 

*** *** ***

 

 

‘Fuuuuuuck, Isak, _fuck_ —’

Even could hardly breathe. He could barely think. It felt like he’d been dangling on the edge of pleasure for so long, too long, that it wasn’t ever going to happen, that Isak was going to literally kill him with it.

‘Baby, you… you have no idea how good you look,’ Isak moaned, rubbing a third finger on Even’s rim while the first two eased in and out, stretching, massaging, and tormenting Even.

‘Keep talking,’ Even groaned, ‘please I need to hear you.’

When Isak asked Even to let him take his turn, he’d known instinctively to talk Even through it, to just dispense with any filter between his brain and his mouth, and let Even know exactly what he was thinking. It was strange to feel so tender about this, when it was such an explicit act, so intimate and graphic, but Even did feel tender, he felt so moved by Isak’s kindness, and his intuition. He somehow just knew exactly what to do to make Even feel present, feel good, feel everything.

‘I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw you,’ Isak panted out, then licked up Even’s dick, circling the tip of his tongue around Even’s slit.

Even squeezed his eyes shut and gripped both hands in his own hair. ‘Y—yeah?’

Isak hummed as he sucked Even’s tip into his mouth. Then he popped off, and, taking a deep inhale, he put his mouth back on, and took Even all the way in.

When Even felt his dick touch the back of Isak’s throat, he keened. His back arched off the bed. And right at that moment, Isak pulled his two fingers out and pushed three past Even’s rim.

The combined feeling of Isak deepthroating him, and stretching him just this side of too much, had Even’s pleasure tripled in seconds.

‘Shit shit shit shit,’ Even moaned, ‘ _fuck_ , Isak, I’m gonna—’

At that, Isak popped off, and smirked when he saw how flushed Even was, how desperate and sensitive he’d become.

‘You…’ Isak groaned, ‘you sound so good like this, you know?’

Isak sped up his fingers, scissoring them so the stretch wasn’t so tight.

Even was beyond words. He was just emitting incoherent sounds of pleasure and encouragement and frustration.

‘Shit,’ Isak moaned into Even’s hip, ‘I touched myself thinking about this exact moment.’

Whether Even groaned at that, or just let out another cry of pleasured gibberish, he didn’t know.

‘You were tied up,’ Isak said, then rubbing a fourth finger around Even’s rim while the other three curled, and hit his prostate dead-on.

Even felt the first tears slip out of the corners of his eyes as he lifted his legs up and clasped them around Isak’s waist, fucking himself back on Isak’s fingers in complete ecstasy.

‘You were letting me do what I wanted to you,’ Isak rambled on, now slipping his fourth finger past Even’s rim, curling again to hit the bundle of nerves that made Even feel like he was being split apart in the best ways.

Suddenly Even heard himself, realised he’d been talking this whole time, _please Isak fuck please I need to come, I need you to just—please—fuck I need you, make me come--_

‘You want it, baby?’ Isak asked.

Even nodded, his head then falling from side to side as Isak massaged his prostate again.

Isak crawled up his body, keeping his fingers on that bundle of nerves with painful accuracy, as he leaned down and groaned into Even’s ear, ‘I said, do you want it, baby?’

Even grabbed Isak, threading his fingers into his curls, and kissed him, hard. When he pulled back he looked into his eyes and groaned, ‘I do, I do, I do—fuck, give it to me, Isak.’

At that, Isak kissed him again, and moved his other hand onto Even’s dick, wet with precome, and squeezed and twisted and pumped, while he still rubbed his prostate. The combined pressure was euphoric, it was perfect, it was divine.

Even’s breath sped up, his chest shallowly rising and falling, his mouth dry from panting and kissing, and Isak knew how close he was. So he moved his lips to Even’s ear again and lowly groaned, ‘ _Let me see you come, gorgeous_.’

Even’s body reacted before his mind could—he was enveloped in totalising bliss, his mouth simply chanting out Isak’s name, his limbs taut with tension as his orgasm swelled out of him in waves.

After what felt like minutes of his whole body being rigid with pleasure, all at once he fell back on the bed, sweat pooling under his knees, down his thighs, at the back of his neck, dripping down his temples. Isak kissed him sweetly again and again, whispering how good he was, how sexy, how perfect.

 

  
*** *** ***

 

Even could only barely pay attention to him, as he felt Isak wipe up their come and sweat with something soft, and then pad out to the kitchen to get two glasses of water.

When he came back into the bedroom, he left the waters on the nightstand, pulled the duvet up over them both and curled into Even’s chest, his head resting in the crook of Even’s neck. He sighed contentedly and traced his finger across Even’s collarbone.

‘How are you feeling?’

Even smiled and pulled Isak closer to him, closer, ever closer.

‘I feel like… I feel like this is only the beginning.’

He could feel Isak’s smile against his skin, and his eyes drifted shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of Norwegian used:
> 
> ‘Hei stoppe! Det er forbrytende. Bli hvor dere er!’  
> \- ‘Hey stop! That’s trespassing! Stay where you are! '
> 
>  
> 
> ‘Jeg ringer politiet! Dere drikker offentlig, dere skal bli arrestert!’  
> \- 'I’m calling the police! You're drinking in public, you should be arrested!’
> 
> \---
> 
> As you’ve probably guessed, there are some easter eggs in here too from other fan fics that have inspired me—the scene on the tram where Even falls over because he can’t hold his balance is from cuteandtwisted’s ‘That’s Not My Name’; and the scene where they down a whole six-pack each is from iriswests’s fucking incredible ‘Take Me To the Stars.’
> 
> \---
> 
> For anyone who likes listening to playlists while they read updates, the Spotify playlist for this fic is here:  
> https://open.spotify.com/user/eadaoin12/playlist/0jU3BaKBNVF5ZfVeuC5izg?si=mnwag9E0SRG0gBat_ZQC2w 
> 
> \---
> 
> Also—title for the next chapter is, ‘So do it.’ Full disclosure: it’s pretty much PWP. So for those of you who don't want that, I would suggest skipping the next chapter when it's published, and just reading the end notes, where I'll give you a summary of important plot details that are separate from the explicit scenes.


	9. So do it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens the morning after the night before, featuring Even on a high, a LOT of smut, a frenzied amount of smut, Even's impulses, not a lot of sleep, and some confessions over breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost 5K of smut (!!). Explicit scenes are cordoned off with *** as usual, but for those of you who want to know the plot points without the obscenities, check the end notes for some highlights.
> 
> \--
> 
> TW: Explicit scenes; ableist thoughts

 

 

 

 

 

> _The morning after the night before, around 09,45_

‘Shit,’ Isak said, his fingers curling into fists in Even’s hair.

Even shifted so Isak could feel how much this talk was affecting him, and Isak’s eyes widened. ‘You’re eager, huh?’

Even nodded. ‘You have no idea. Seeing you next to me all morning, naked, lying there all open and sleep-soft and fucking gorgeous. I just want you.’

He leaned in and nuzzled his nose into Isak’s neck; kissed over where he felt Isak’s pulse quicken; briefly considered pushing Isak back against the kitchen countertop and taking him then and there.

It was miraculous he’d not jumped Isak half way through breakfast. All he could think about was last night, how much he was dying to do it again, how he wanted everything, this time, everything.

‘Fuck, Isak,’ he groaned, ‘I want to know what you sound like when I’m inside you.’

Isak moaned, and then paused. The words really washed over him. He stared at Even, growing terror clear in his eyes as he absorbed Even’s confession.

Then, just as quickly, his face settled into a look of intense determination.

He leaned up and dragged his lips across Even’s cheek, towards his ear.

‘So do it,’ he whispered.

 

\--

*** *** ***

\--

 

Even barely removed his lips from Isak’s as they stumbled back to his bedroom.

He was desperate for him in ways he hadn’t felt before, his hands twitching and restless against Isak’s hips, chest, neck.

When Isak flicked his tongue into Even’s mouth and then moaned, he squirmed and pulled Isak closer still. He’d broken out in a sweat and they hadn’t even closed the door yet.

At the back of his mind, he felt a familiar twinge of anxiety, not knowing how he’d gone from no experience at all, to suddenly needing Isak again and again and again.

But the way Isak grabbed hold of him, whispered _Fuck, Even, I’m so fucking turned on for you_ , killed all trace of worry in Even’s mind. That, and Isak’s moans were becoming the only thing Even wanted to hear for the rest of his life.

Even managed to push Isak back into the bedroom, kick the door shut behind him, and start pulling at his t-shirt without breaking the kiss.

As soon as his hands were on Isak’s bare chest, though, feeling his warm skin, the soft hair trailing from his navel down to the waistband of his shorts, the muscles flexing with each breath, Even’s desire to feel Isak everywhere just doubled.

He fervently kissed Isak again, hoping to get across how much he loved seeing him like this, how perfect he was in his eyes, as his hands circled round to Isak’s lower back, touching him anywhere he could.

He felt himself getting hard, and he didn’t shy away from pressing his hips against Isak’s as he started to lick into Isak’s mouth with more longing.

‘Fucking tease,’ Isak muttered, as he leaned back. He looked at Even, cheeks flushed, lips wet, and grabbed Even’s t-shirt, pulling it up. ‘Off, off, fucking _off_ ,’ he demanded, dragging it over Even’s head.

‘Shit, Isak,’ Even groaned, pressing his nose into his hair, breathing in deep that scent that was so distinctly Isak’s, ‘you feel so good just like this.’

And Even meant it. Standing there, pressing Isak into his bedroom wall, bare chest to bare chest, hips flush, feeling how Isak was getting hard, too—it felt so hot, so promising of what was yet to happen, he could barely stand it.

Isak made another sound of desperation in response, and started kissing the crook of Even’s neck, lightly sucking, then biting hard enough to leave a prominent bruise.

Only too delighted by Isak’s want to mark him, Even tilted his head back, moaning, ‘Yeah, baby, just—just like that…’

At that, Isak released his bite, and dropped his forehead to Even’s shoulder, taking a few deep breaths, before he asked, deadpan, ‘We haven’t gotten to the bed yet and I already feel close to coming—how the fuck is that even possible.’

In another scenario, Even would chuckle and make fun of Isak’s libido.

Right now, though, his immediate reaction was to grab Isak’s hips and moan into his mouth, ‘You’re not allowed to come yet.’

Before Isak could respond, Even kissed him with every ounce of want he felt, and started pushing Isak towards the bed. Isak’s breaths were heavy against Even’s ear as he held him close.

Once Even felt the side of the bed against his shins, he traced his fingers down from Isak’s neck, along his spine—relishing the shiver that prompted—to the waistband of Isak’s shorts, keeping eye contact with Isak the entire time, not saying a word. Just watching his reaction to Even’s touch, eyelids drooping, mouth open. It was intoxicating,

Bypassing the shorts, Even slipped his hand beneath the elastic, finding Isak hadn’t put underwear on before they got dressed for breakfast.

‘Oh _fuck_ ,’ he heard himself say, ‘you—you’re not wearing anything under this.’

Isak shrugged, ‘No point.’

Still maintaining their close eye contact, noses only centimetres apart, Even plunged both hands underneath the waistband and grabbed Isak’s ass—at which Isak took in a gorgeous gasp—and Even lightly kneaded, revelling in how perfectly his ass fit in his palms.

Isak clutched Even’s arms and seemed a little taken aback at their position.

Spurred on by Isak’s clear arousal, however, Even held on to Isak’s ass with both hands, and began to softly drag his cheeks apart as he also pulled Isak’s groin flush against his, in circular, agonizingly slow, movements. It soon became a rhythm—pulling forward, curling his fingers into the soft fleshy cheeks as he dragged them apart; then pushing back, stroking the soft roundness curving down to Isak’s thighs.

Isak’s eyes fluttered closed at Even’s circular grinding, and he leaned his forehead against his, sighing deeply when Even’s index finger began to trail its way down towards Isak’s hole.

The arousal rolling through Even was so _total_ he could feel it ripple along his skin.

When Even started to tap lightly on Isak’s hole, he hushed Isak’s gentle noise of pleasure, and squeezed his ass again, whispering involuntarily, ‘You’re _so_ fucking delicious.’

Unable to stand the few breaths of distance between them anymore, Even kissed Isak again, and again, and again, and then, without warning, pushed him to sit on the bed.

 

Isak looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and mild hurt, before Even smirked and knelt down on the floor between Isak’s legs. The sight of him from there, just his chest and neck and slightly shocked face, made Even grin even wider.

Then he pushed Isak’s thighs to sit on top of his shoulders, and buried his face in Isak’s groin.

Isak let out a long, loud moan.

Through the flimsy fabric over Isak’s most intimate parts, Even could sense that now familiar smell of sweat, sex, and that Isak-scent again. Being that close to him now, knowing the smell of him here in between his legs, and seeing how his chest flushed from the promise of what Even was about to do—it was almost too much.

‘I’m gonna take off your shorts, ok?’

Isak nodded with such enthusiasm it looked almost cartoonish; Even smiled again, and then curled his fingers around the waistband, pulling slowly. As he uncovered Isak’s hips, his groin, his thighs, he kissed each exposed part, slowing their desperation into an affectionate, sensual tease.

He could feel Isak’s skin get hotter, hear his breaths increase, and he noticed his own dick get harder still with the realisation that Isak was getting so much pleasure from this.

Once he pulled off the shorts completely, he moved Isak’s thighs back on top of his shoulders and stared up at him.

‘You’re so fucking hot, Isak,’ he murmured, as Isak looked down at him, resting on his elbows, panting, his curls falling into his eyes.

‘Even,’ he whispered, seemingly unable to say anything more. ‘I—I—’

‘I know, baby,’ Even replied, tracing his fingertips along Isak’s calves, his knees, up his thighs. He could touch him like this forever, just being this close to him. But right now, he needed more.

Even gently stroked around his thighs until his palms were pushing them up, until his knees were up against his chest. He kept eye contact the whole time, hoping Isak could trust him with this.

‘Hold,’ Even instructed, as he moved Isak’s hands to grip his own knees.

‘Even—?’ Isak asked, before his question turned into a shocked gasp, as Even immediately licked along his perineum and over his rim in one swift, wet line.

Even could feel how much he was straining against his own boxers, how much it seemed like if he wasn’t touching Isak in some way he would just spontaneously combust.

Isak couldn’t help clasping Even’s head between his thighs as Even lapped at him with more gusto still. The noises were obscene and wet in Even’s ears, and only barely quieter than Isak’s now deafening moans.

‘ _Jesus_ , Even—I—I can’t—wow, what did I do to deserve this, fy _faen_ —’

It’s at that moment that a furious knock rapped on the door and Eskild’s voice punctured their incandescent sex bubble.

‘Baby gay, I am _delighted_ that you have grown to accept your sexuality—and the sweet man who’s probably between your legs right now—but it _is_ a Saturday morning and I’m trying to Skype my parents, which is incredibly awkward when everything I’m telling them is punctuated by your indecent sex noises! Are you shooting a porno in there or what?’

Even reeled back and looked up at Isak, equal parts embarrassed and amused, as he saw the same emotions rise in a blush on Isak’s cheeks.

‘Sorry Eskild!’ Isak shouted, bringing both hands to his face in shame.

‘Guess you have to keep it down, gorgeous,’ Even said, unable to hide his delight at seeing Isak so fucked out.

‘Guess you have to stop making me scream,’ Isak bit back, but with undeniable fondness.

Even put both hands up and shrugged, ‘I make no promises.’

As Even started to bring his hands back to Isak’s thighs, Isak abruptly grabbed hold of one of them. Looking up at him in confusion, Even was about to ask what he wanted, when Isak slowly held Even’s hand up towards his face.

‘We need to keep quiet,’ he murmured, then placed Even’s palm over his lips.

The sight of Isak holding onto Even’s hand over his own mouth like that had Even involuntarily let out a strained groan. As Isak stroked the back of Even’s hand, nodding his sure consent, Even knew this boy was going to kill him, and he was going to relish every fucking minute of it.

He stared at Isak, rubbing his thumb over his cheek and then realised he was touching himself with his other hand the whole time. Isak looked down at Even’s groin and realised this too, at which he whined and then reached out to Even’s head, guiding him back to his hole.

‘You liked me eating you out, huh?’ Even asked, proudly, and Isak pushed his head down further in response. Even felt another wave of heated arousal rush through him at Isak’s show of dominance, and he happily opened his mouth and returned to kissing and licking and pushing his tongue inside.

The hand over Isak’s mouth, however, made no difference to the volume of his noises. After a few minutes of Even wetly lapping at Isak’s rim, he had to pull back again—at which Isak let out a high-pitched shriek of protest—and said, ‘Baby, we have to be quiet.’

Isak huffed and rolled his eyes. Then Even got an idea.

He traced his index finger along Isak’s cupid’s bow and his bottom lip, at which Isak dropped his mouth open and softly drew Even’s fingers between his teeth, and licked at them. Encouraged by this, Even pushed two fingers into Isak’s mouth, which Isak quickly began to suck on, a sight Even found far too fucking appealing.

‘Let’s try it this way,’ Even murmured, before quickly dropping his head back down to Isak’s hole, and pushing his tongue inside.

Isak’s back arched off the bed at the combined feeling of Even’s fingers fucking his mouth at the same rhythm as he ate him out. He thrashed his legs, squeezed Even’s head between his thighs, and panted around his fingers.

Even never knew he could gain so much pleasure from this; he’d never really thought about giving someone a rim job, assumed it was always something you would be _asked_ to do rather than _want_ to do.

But here he was, face planted in Isak’s ass, spit and precome all around his chin, and all he could think of was how much he loved pleasuring Isak like this. His dick was so hard it was throbbing, and he thought if he just brushed it off the side of the bed he might accidentally come.

All at once he noticed how Isak was clenching everywhere, how his muscles were tense and his breathing shallow and laboured, and he realised with a thrill of pride and excitement that Isak was _so close_.

Isak was trembling, and when Even saw in his peripheral vision Isak’s hand move towards his dick, Even swatted it away and said, ‘ _No_ , baby. Come like this.’

Isak whined around Even’s fingers and thrashed again on the bed, as Even’s tongue continued licking and sucking at his rim. Even didn’t know if it was unfair or unrealistic to demand Isak come untouched, but seeing how close Isak already was, he wanted to try, he wanted to see if he could do it.

His hand ached from being curled around Isak’s mouth, and he knew Isak’s jaw must ache, too. So he drew his hand back and stroked along Isak’s chest, before moving both hands around his body and under his ass.

Isak keened quietly—he really was trying to keep it down—when Even pushed his ass up, so he could eat him out how he wanted to, and Isak could feel how Even really thought he was delicious in every way.

As he grasped Isak’s ass in both hands and licked inside him, feeling him clench everywhere, he heard Isak’s desperate cry, ‘Even, Ev _en, Even!_ ’

Then he felt Isak’s thighs squeeze his head tighter than he had before.

He glanced up to see if he was alright, and saw Isak’s dick spurt out line after line of come, shooting up his chest, as Isak’s mouth dropped open and let out a long, subdued groan of pleasure.

Seeing Isak orgasm like that was like a vision to Even, whose own climax swelled, just from watching Isak’s face scrunched up in an overwhelming frenzy. All at once he felt his balls tighten and his stomach contract as he came spontaneously, still kneeling between Isak’s legs.

He was so surprised by his climax that he just squeezed his eyes shut, hands still kneading Isak’s ass, feeling his body empty another streak of come when Isak sighed, ‘ _Fuck_ , Even, that’s it—come for me.’

When he finally felt the last wave of his orgasm subside, he leaned forward and tucked his face into Isak’s belly, trying to get his breathing back under control. Isak stroked his hair the whole time, waiting happily for Even to return to reality.

As soon as he did, he looked up at Isak, who was grinning from ear to ear— _two dimples, oh lord, it’s a two-dimple smile_ —and despite the fact that they had literally just come all over each other, Even needed to hear Isak come again. He needed to see that _immediately_ again.

He leaned back and started sucking hickeys into Isak’s thighs. Isak ran his hand through Even’s hair, legs completely open now, as he reclined on the bed, relaxed and contented.

It was only when Even finished a fourth hickey on his inner thighs that Isak spoke.

‘You really have a thing for that, don’t you?’ he asked with a smile.

Even glanced up at him. ‘A thing for you? You’re so fucking right.’ Especially when he was lying there, sweaty and blissed and flushed from just being eaten out.

‘No, idiot,’ Isak laughed, ‘a thing for my thighs. You’re always touching them.’

‘Yeah, because you’re so sensitive here.’

‘Am not,’ Isak said, instinctively wanting to contradict him.

‘Are too.’

‘Am _not_ —’ Isak bit back, but it was cut short by Even running his tongue up the inside of Isak’s left thigh, touching all his most sensitive spots. Isak’s retort derailed into a broken moan as Even’s tongue continued trailing up the highest, innermost part of his thigh, until he was face-first back in Isak’s groin.

‘Ok, ok, I take your point,’ Isak said shakily.

Even smiled to himself, as he watched Isak’s dick stir.

All of a sudden, Even’s knees were _too fucking painful_ from kneeling on the ground this entire time, so he quickly pushed himself up and pulled Isak up, too, until they were both standing.

Isak looked confused for a second, until Even curled a hand around his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.

The response was instinctive: Isak licked into his mouth with increasing fervour, lightly biting on his bottom lip, and running his hands through his hair.

Even loved this. He loved doing this. He couldn’t believe they’d waited so long to do this. They should’ve fucked the minute Isak got on that damn bus, public indecency be damned. They were just too good at it. They turned each other on so fucking much, it was barely tolerable.

Apparently Isak felt the same.

‘Ev, I know we _just_ fucked but I—I need you inside me. I need to feel you,’ he groaned out against Even’s neck.

Isak’s plea made Even’s brain go briefly blank. He couldn’t decide what to do next. _Against the wall? On all fours? Missionary? The hot seat? Spooning? Seated wheelbarrow?_ He felt dizzy with choice. Actually he really felt dizzy.

‘Even?’ Isak asked, gently tracing Even’s cheeks with his thumbs. ‘You ok?’

Switching back to reality, Even looked into Isak’s eyes, and nodded. They were a light hazel-green in this light. _God he’s gorgeous_. _I need to—I want—I need—_

‘I want you to get on the bed, on all fours.’ He had to talk directly to get anything out. Complex sentence structures were beyond him in this state.

For the first time all night, however, Isak seemed hesitant. ‘On…on all fours?’ he asked. Then Even saw a trace of something like disappointment.

‘We won’t fuck like that,’ he explained quickly, ‘I--I just--Fuck. I _am_ so obsessed with your thighs. And your ass. You… you’re so sexy, Isak. Shit. I just want to—I want to get you ready like that. Is that—is that alright?’

Isak’s breath caught in his throat and his mouth opened, his breath laboured again. A gorgeous flush rose up his chest to his cheeks and he nodded, bringing Even into another deep kiss.

Then, without warning, Isak turned around, climbed up on the bed, and rested on his hands and knees, looking back at Even for affirmation.

Even had to just stare openly at him. He handed over so much trust without question. He just followed Even’s wish without a word, and now Even was looking at the perfect sight of Isak on all fours just for him. It was beyond belief. It was like something straight out of his best fantasies. How was this _real_.

‘You look amazing like this. But there’s something else,’ Even said aloud, the words passing his lips before he could register them first in his mind.

Isak frowned in question, waiting for Even to elaborate.

‘I—I want to put on some music,’ he said, ‘plus it’ll… it’ll help cover the noise.’

‘Yeah, yes—yes, do that,’ Isak replied, falling on to his side, and failing to cover the break in his voice. ‘What do you want to play?’

‘Just trust me.’

Even got his phone off the nightstand, ignoring the countless missed calls and texts from his parents and the Bakka squad and Astrid again, and found his music app, putting on the one song he wanted to hear now.

As he put the phone back on the nightstand, he returned his gaze to Isak, who was looking up at him in amusement. ‘“High For This”? Really?’

Even nodded and sung along to the opening lyrics. ‘ _You don’t know…what’s in store. But you know what you’re here for_.’

He crawled along the bed until he was kissing Isak again, and slowly wrapping his hands around Isak’s waist, pulling him back onto his hands and knees.

‘Is this ok?’ he asked quietly, wanting to make sure Isak was still with him.

‘ _Yes_ ,’ Isak breathed desperately. ‘Please, Even.’

‘Eskild is gonna be so mad if he hears us fucking again,’ Even said, running his hands over Isak’s back and ass.

‘I don’t care who hears, I just want you to fuck me,’ Isak whimpered into the mattress.

Even’s lips were moving against Isak’s spine, as he kissed his way up and down his skin.

‘ _I love you like this_ ,’ Even whispered.

He meant what he said too. He meant it. The weight of that settled in his mind for a moment and he waited for the terror to arrive with it—but the terror never showed. It was a simple truth. He loved him like this. He loved him.

‘ _Please, Even_ ,’ Isak sighed, grabbing hold of Even’s ass behind him and pulling him close.

It was then Isak noticed Even was still semi-dressed. 'Why the hell are you still wearing sweatpants? Take them  _off_ ,' Isak complained.

Even knew there was something wrong, and that was it. He quickly shoved his sweatpants off and threw them on the floor behind him.

He then asked where the lube and condoms were, and Isak pointed at the second drawer of the nightstand. Even kissed his back again before darting over to pull out the first bottle and box his hand found, and throwing them on the bed next to Isak.

‘This is just a wet dream come true,’ he said, opening the lube bottle and squeezing out an ambitious amount onto his fingers. Isak’s responding moan was fortunately, unfortunately, lost under the volume of The Weeknd’s bass line.

Even warmed up the lube as best he could, and then brought his slicked up fingers to Isak’s hole, circling and nudging it carefully. Isak pushed his ass back in encouragement.

‘Come _onnn_ Even, just open me up already,’ he ground out through clenched teeth.

At that, Even swiftly pushed one finger in all the way, to which Isak moaned in extremely gratifying fashion.

Soon Even was up to three fingers, as Isak was still loose and relaxed from coming so recently. Even avoided touching his prostate, wanting to just stretch him and have him wait for that kind of stimulation once they were properly having sex.

_Fuck. We’re about to really have sex._

With Isak trembling and sweating beneath him, Even could barely follow a thought. The sound of his fingers in and out of Isak’s ass, the sight of being so intimate with him, the feel of Isak’s tight wetness—soon to be wrapped around his now painfully hard dick—was all overwhelming in the best ways.

The song, too, added something _more_ to this. The thrumming bass line, the sharp percussion, made Isak curl and uncurl his fists in the duvet, arch his back, push into Even’s fingers. He was so responsive, so eager, it made the hairs on the back of Even’s neck stand up in anticipation.

He looked down at the obscene and glorious sight of his fingers going in and out of Isak’s ass, and another idea occurred to him. One that made him clench in exhilaration.

‘Can—can I try something?’ he asked.

Isak nodded urgently into the pillow.

Even picked up the lube bottle again and slicked up his dick, then pushed Isak’s thighs together.

For a moment Isak raised his head and looked back to see what Even was doing, then felt the tip of Even’s dick against the inside of his thighs. His eyes closed in anticipation.

‘Can I?’ Even asked, needing to know Isak was still on board.

Isak nodded again, whining high in his throat when Even pushed his dick in between Isak’s fleshy inner thighs, feeling it all along his perineum. He made sure to keep fingering Isak to prolong the foreplay, make it as good for him as he could.

For Even, the sensation of Isak’s plump thighs cushioning and squeezing his dick was fucking _heaven_. That and the open release once the head emerged out the other side. It was all too much, especially when every time he thrust his dick back in, Isak whispered filthy encouragements.

‘Yeah, baby, fuck my thighs like that. Shit, your dick feels so good there. You’re so hard for me, _faen_. Can’t wait to have you fuck me for real.’

Soon, Even felt the all-too-familiar tingle in his stomach and the pulsing climax about to start, so he pulled back harshly and grabbed the base of his dick to stave off his orgasm.

Isak fell to his side and looked back at Even, noticing his hand cupping his dick carefully, and his controlled breaths.

‘You were--?’

‘Yeah.’

After a moment, Isak’s face broke out into another huge two-dimple grin and he giggled. _Giggled_. Even felt dizzy again and fell forward to dip his face into Isak’s neck, kissing and licking and biting every inch of it.

Isak grabbed hold of Even’s ass and pulled it towards him, as his legs naturally fell open to let Even between them. He kept a hold of him there, as he urgently nudged Even to kiss him properly. It didn’t take much for Even to get Isak’s silent request, as he brought their lips together and licked into his mouth.

They kissed frantically as Even’s hips instinctively started grinding down into Isak’s, a movement which provoked a moan from both of them as their hard, sensitive dicks slid against each other.

‘Shit, baby,’ Even groaned, ‘I need to fuck you. Can I?’

Isak nearly shrieked out his responding moan, and moved his hand around the duvet, frantically searching for the box of condoms. After a few moments of searching, his fingers found it and he pushed it against Even’s chest.

Even realised his hands were too wet now to try and open a condom, so he asked Isak to do it. It took Isak a second to hear him through the haze of arousal in his brain, and another second to recognise the request, but soon he had unwrapped one and rolled it onto Even’s dick, quickly and clinically, which—Even realised with a flash of pride—betrayed how desperate Isak was.

He looked down at Isak then, his skin raised in goosebumps, his hair a mess from being tugged and pulled and stroked, his lips swollen and red from being bitten, and nearly came just from the look of lust in his eyes.

Isak grabbed hold of Even’s ass until they were grinding again, a silent reminder for Even to follow through on his request.

Even gently held on to Isak’s knees and raised them so they clasped Even’s waist, before dropping his own forearms to rest on either side of Isak’s head.

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he whispered into Isak’s ear. ‘So I want you to guide me inside you.’

Hearing Even’s words in his low sex-strained voice had Isak keening, before he quickly inched his right hand between their bodies and gently took hold of Even’s dick, moving it to his rim and tilting his hips up so it slowly began to enter him.

Immediately it punched a groan out of Even, whose head dropped into Isak’s neck as he tried to steady his breathing. ‘ _Isak_ ,’ he sighed, ‘you feel— _faen_ , this feels like fucking—magic—’

Isak ran his hands up and down Even’s back, drawing his earlobe between his teeth and quietly murmuring, ‘ _Give in to it then_.’

Even raised his head and, seeing the certainty in Isak’s eyes, used the leverage of his forearms to push his dick all the way in.

When Even felt the soft roundness of Isak’s ass against his hips, his mouth dropped open in a shaky exhale.

‘ _Even_ ,’ Isak sighed, grabbing hold of his face and pulling him down into a wet kiss. The feeling of Isak’s lips against his own in such sweet urgency was almost more intimate than the fact that they were now connected in the most intimate way imaginable.

When Even pulled back to take a breath, he nudged his nose against Isak’s, an action of assurance and affection.

Then he whispered on Isak’s lips, ‘I love this. I love this so much.’

At that, Isak was seemingly unable to stop making noises of pleasure, maybe even some attempts at words, but with the unending stream of sounds coming from his mouth, it was impossible to tell.

Even started thrusting at once, the pressure of Isak’s tightness far too much on his still sensitive dick, but kept it slow and deep, wanting to make sure the tip of his dick dragged across Isak’s prostate with every movement. He was evidently successful, as Isak’s moans were only just covered by the volume of the music.

All too soon, Even’s slow thrusts were agonising for both of them. Isak ground out, ‘Come _on_ , Even, just _fuck_ me,’ but at Even’s lack of immediate response, he took hold of Even’s ass again and pulled it towards him again and again, forcing Even to fuck him quicker.

The fact of Isak’s dominance—the fact that he was essentially fucking himself with Even’s dick—was so arousing that Even had to consciously reject his own _immediate_ desire to come.

‘Baby, baby, _please_ ,’ Isak keened, tears starting to pool at the corner of his eyes.

Even, taking note of Isak’s plea, did the only thing he could think of, and wrapped both arms around Isak’s back, and flipped them over, so Isak was straddling Even’s hips once Even’s head hit the mattress.

Isak evidently loved their new position, as it gave him complete freedom, and he took advantage of it at once, raising himself up on his knees so only the tip of Even’s dick was inside him, and then grinding down until he bottomed out.

Every move Isak made Even writhe and moan beneath him, the sight and feeling and smell of Isak on top of him like that was just _too much_.

Isak looked perfect like this. He looked _divine_.

He was frantic, though, grinding and riding on Even’s dick with such urgency that he started to shout, ‘ _Even_ , fuck, I need—I need to come, _please_ —’

Even didn’t know what he was asking for, but he sat up at once and held on to Isak’s hips, guiding him down harder onto his dick, and kissing the sensitive spot on Isak’s neck behind his ear.

‘Yeah, make yourself feel good, come on,’ Even encouraged, catching Isak’s hips and thrusting up in synch.

It still wasn’t enough.

Isak was wild with need now, tears streaming down his cheeks, as his right hand moved from Even’s neck to his own dick, jerking himself off fast and sloppy.

Even did the only thing he could to try to tip Isak over the edge.

He held Isak down again, and at the same time lightly bit his ear, and pulled on his hair with both hands, making sure his dick aimed for the sensitive bundle of nerves as he thrust up.

And then it happened.

Isak instantly wailed out his orgasm, eyes fixed shut, his left arm squeezing around Even’s shoulders as he threw his head back and let his climax take over.

The last thing that left his lips was a reverent sigh: ‘ _Even_.’

 

\--

*** *** ***

\--

 

 

 

 

 

> _The night before_

 

Even barely slept. He couldn’t believe he was here, in Isak’s bed, holding Isak to his chest. This boy, who was drifting in and out, mumbling and snuffling in his sleep. Even could feel his heart expand and tense and relax with every one of Isak’s breaths.

He kept running his fingers through Isak’s hair, along his back, kissing his forehead, his cheeks, whispering how much he liked him, how much he wanted him still, how sorry he was that he couldn’t be good enough.

Isak scrunched up his nose and gripped Even tighter, still unconscious of his words.

He knew this was special, this was one of the last times he’d ever get to hold Isak. Once Isak found out about Even, once he realised the extent of how messed up he was, how badly it would all turn out, he’d leave, as was right. It was for the best. And yeah, the best was unkind.

Even didn’t—wouldn’t—hold back tonight, though. He wanted everything, as long as he could have it. When he had mapped out every part of Isak’s back with his fingers, he moved them back to Isak’s eyebrows, cheekbones, jawline.

Isak suddenly mumbled, deadpan, ‘Don’t you ever sleep.’

Unwilling to stop himself any longer, Even leaned into Isak and kissed him gently—lingering, sweet kisses that wanted to say _I’m here, I just want to hold you_.

Despite his faux indignation, Isak melted into the kisses, slowly tracing his hand up Even’s chest and around his neck. Even felt transcendent like this. Like nothing could touch him. He was here, naked in every sense, holding on to the light of his life, who woke up just to kiss him back.

\--

Isak drifted off again while Even caressed his scalp—he was helpless at that, falling into Even’s embrace, and into a deep sleep, almost immediately.

Though he touched Isak slowly, Even’s mind was fast, fast, fast. He knew this wasn’t going to last, he knew this wasn’t sustainable, he knew this had to end. But he wanted to do everything for Isak while he still could. But every time he wanted to wake Isak up, he couldn’t stomach the thought of interrupting how peaceful and serene Isak looked.

So he reached for his phone and checked the time.

_03,16._

He had a bunch of missed calls from his parents, from the Bakka squad, from Astrid, but he ignored them all. He didn’t want to explain why he hadn’t come home, why no one had heard from him. Nothing could interrupt this bubble yet. Not yet. He needed more time.

He needed to do as much for Isak as he could in whatever amount of time they still had. But what could he do without moving from him? As he fiddled his phone around between his fingers he suddenly realised with a joyous thunderbolt he literally had the answer in the palm of his hand.

The first thing he bought online was a crop top and tights, ones just like he’d imagined all those weeks ago. He bought them a size too small, aswell, so they would definitely hug every inch of Isak’s body.

Then he bought a lube selection—15 different flavours—and 3 boxes of them, because if the crop top and tights were happening, it was only leading in one direction. Then he glanced around Isak’s room and tried to see where he could make a difference.

The orange scarf draped across the window was sweet, but Isak deserved something better, so Even got him luxury drapes that doubled as blackout curtains.

He spotted the tattered rucksack under Isak’s desk and bought him a new one on his favourite outdoors-wear website, which got him thinking about hiking, and travelling, and _shit_ wouldn’t it be amazing if he and Isak went on holiday? That would also solve the problem of other people impinging on their bubble. If they got out of Oslo, they’d be as free as they wanted.

_We should go to Copenhagen. No, Berlin. Rome? No! Morocco! Wouldn’t we be cozy in Marrakech? Or even Casablanca? Just like the film._

Even quickly looked up the flights and realised once he tried to buy return tickets that his credit card was maxed out. But that just wasn’t good enough. He needed to do this. He took out a quick loan and bought the flights.

Isak would need suitcases. So he bought five for him online. And—oh, they’ll need somewhere to stay, so he bought them a penthouse at the Four Seasons. He knew it was all worth it. It was worth it for Isak. And even the small voice of worry at the back of his mind—the voice that said he shouldn’t be doing this, that he should at least ask first, at least wait until he’d calmed down from whatever post-sex high he’s on—wasn’t enough right then to stop him.

\--

‘I wish we could stay like this in here forever.’

‘I wish you would _sleep_ , Even, fuck.’

\--

Hours passed, Even simply humming songs into Isak’s hair, whispering stories into his skin, letting the night drag on for as long as it can, as his mind whirred on.

\--

 ‘I wish you knew how happy you made me.

‘ … Sap. Roll over, will you? I wanna be big spoon.’

\--

All at once Even couldn’t stay there just lying down while time marches on. He needed to be up, he needed to be moving, his limbs were restless.

He felt like nothing could touch him now, but he needed to touch everything.

He kissed Isak’s forehead, his cheeks, his nose, until Isak stirred awake and mumbled something grumpy and incoherent into his chest.

‘Morning, baby,’ Even sighed fondly.

‘What time is it,’ Isak muttered.

Even reached around and looked at his phone. ‘It’s … 08,32. Want breakfast?’

‘ _Hva faen_ , Even, let me sleep.’

Isak punctuated his grumble by hitching his leg over Even’s waist and burrowing his nose deeper into Even’s neck.

‘Nei!’ Even laughed, ‘We need to eat. You need your energy.’

Isak perked up at that and looked at Even. ‘I do?’ he asked with interest.

Even nodded happily. ‘Yeah. You do.’

They then just looked at each other, revelling in their closeness. Even brought a hand up and traced along Isak’s cheekbone with the tips of his fingers.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asked.

Isak smiled wider than Even had ever seen and leaned into his touch.

‘I’m … I’m happy,’ he said simply, glancing up at Even shyly before dropping his face down to Even’s chest and planting a little kiss there.

‘I didn’t know I could be this happy,’ he whispered.

Even’s heart twisted in his chest and he felt that sudden need again to move, to fix, to _do_.

‘Come on, baby, let me make you some food. You must be hungry.’

‘ _Neiiiiii_ ,’ Isak whined, wrapping his arms around Even’s torso. ‘No moving.’

Even laughed again and quickly moved out of the bed, holding onto Isak’s hands and dragging him with him into the kitchen.

\--

After scanning the cupboards for anything he could cook with, Even decided on a frittata. While he whizzed around the kitchen chopping up vegetables, whisking eggs, melting butter in a frying pan, greasing a baking dish, Isak perched on the countertop and stole kisses.

Even’s mind raced on, wondering what it would be like if Isak still lived at home, if he still avoided his mama, if his parents would hate Even.

As he picked up a knife from the rack he notices Isak’s weighted silence, and realised swiftly he’d said all those thoughts aloud.

‘I—I’ve told you about my mama,’ Isak said finally, as Even flipped chopped onion and peppers around in a frying pan.

‘I haven’t told you why I moved out. Why Eskild found me in a gay bar. How I ended up living in the kollektiv.’

From there, Isak explained something about his mother having an episode when Isak was 15, how Isak ran away from home when his papa left them, how Isak lived in the basement for a year, then moved into the kollektiv when a room became free.

By the time he’d finished explaining, the frittata was in the oven and Even was back between Isak’s legs, trying to slow his thoughts down to listen properly.

‘I’ve been bitter about my papa leaving and my mama losing control for a long time. And I… well, I’ve been trying to be better about it. It’s not her fault she’s sick. I get that now.’

_Of course, you sweet boy. I know you deserve better than being burdened with someone mentally ill. You deserve so much better. You don’t need that kind of weight on your shoulders. You don’t need it._

‘I … I think papa would be fine with this. With us. Mama, though… she might not understand yet. But I mean, I get it. And I can’t even feel bitter about that, because I … I should never have left her. I should never have abandoned her like my papa did.’

_You sweet, sweet boy. You don’t need that._

Even suddenly noticed Isak was wiping away tears and he sprung forward to kiss his cheeks.

_I understand. I get it. I know you deserve better. You don’t need burdens. You don’t need that shit._

When Isak glanced at him and furrowed his brow, Even realised again with a shock he’d said all his thoughts aloud.

‘Why are you saying this?’ Isak asked.

Even shrugged and repeated himself, ‘I get it. You deserve better.’

‘No,’ Isak retorted sharply, ‘Even, the point is I should not have left her. It’s not about “deserving” and it’s not about “burdens,” she’s my mama, and I should have looked past the illness and seen _her_. I’m a terrible fucking son.’

Even wrapped his arms around Isak and held him tightly, feeling how tense and worked up Isak had become just talking about leaving his mama. _Oh my sweet boy._

He kissed him, trying to soothe his pain, and then remembered he had the perfect way to make Isak happy.

‘I have a big surprise for you,’ Even whispered giddily.

Isak frowned at him in confusion, seemingly lost by the sudden change in topic.

‘What kind of surprise?’ he said at last.

‘You’ll see. A big one. I hope you’re free next weekend. And I hope you’re a Humphrey Bogart fan.’

Even burst out laughing at the look of bemused perplexity on Isak’s face.

‘Are you kidnapping me and forcing me to watch your pretentious art movies? Is that what this is about?’ he asked after a pause.

‘Nope,’ Even replied, with a smug grin. ‘You’ll never guess. But I hope you like the heat.’

Isak frowned again and then shrugged, letting a small chuckle out as he hopped off the countertop. ‘I left my phone in the bedroom, I’m just gonna check my messages real quick.’

\--

Even started cleaning the dishes, and when Isak returned to the kitchen, he heard him carefully say, ‘Um…Even?’

Even was busy scrubbing their entire cutlery drawer in the scalding hot soapy water, so he turned his head and said, ‘Yes, baby?’

‘Your… your phone. It was buzzing off the nightstand. I didn’t mean to look, but—you have, like, dozens of missed calls from people.’

Even shrugged and said, ‘Yeah, not surprising. My parents are way overprotective.’

‘You’ve got voicemails,’ Isak continued, trying to express some concern without prompting Even to tell him why everyone seemed to be looking for him. ‘I think people are worried…’

‘ _Drit i dem, jeg kan ta vare på meg selv_ ,’ Even bit back.

‘Please, Even,’ Isak said. ‘Your sister just called. They probably just wanna know where you are.’

Even sighed and dropped the washing up gloves in the sink. ‘Fine. I’ll see what Astrid says.’

\--

_Even, love, we’re worried sick. No one has heard from you since yesterday morning before school. Papa is this close to sending out every policeman in his section looking for you. Mama can barely talk. I know you’re probably just with someone, maybe Isak, and you forgot to call home, but we don’t know that, and we’re terrified about what might have happened to you. Please. Just come home._

\--

He deleted it, and ignored the rest of his notifications.

When he rejoined Isak in the kitchen, the frittata was ready, and they sat down to eat it.

Isak slowly worked up the courage to ask what Astrid had said.

Even abruptly waved it off, reiterated it was just his family being overprotective. Isak seemed unconvinced but didn’t pry.

‘Is it…’ he asked, then fell silent. Then tried again:

‘Is it because … of what they would say… if they knew about this. About us.’

Isak said it like a statement rather than a question. Like he’d already made up his mind.

‘Baby,’ Even replied softly. ‘It’s not about you. My parents… they’re a little controlling. Actually, they’re a lot controlling. They never trust me with anything. They think I’m a fuck-up, and they’re probably right, I mean, I am.

‘And they don’t get why I am the way I am. They don’t accept it. They don’t accept me. Not the fact that I’m pan, not the fact that I don’t want to live life by their rules, not the fact that I might know my feelings better than they think.’

His words tumbled out so quickly, he barely registered them.

‘That’s why I rely so much on the Bakka squad, and on Sana and the girls, on Astrid.’

His mind whirred on and on, wondering if that was too much to tell, if this meant the end for him and Isak, if Isak saw straight through to the weaker parts of him and would want to run.

Instead, contra his expectations and completely mystifying his comprehension, Isak leaned forward and traced a finger along Even’s lips as he murmured, ‘You can rely on me, too.’

Even stared openly at him for a moment.

How was this boy _real_. How could he continue to surprise him. How could this last.

Then Even beamed at him, shoved the chair back, and grabbed Isak’s face, kissing him fiercely on the mouth.

Isak responded at once, licking along Even’s lips until they were kissing open-mouthed, touching each other anywhere they could reach.

All too quickly, and not quickly enough, the kiss turned heavy, as the two grinded against each other in the middle of the kollektiv kitchen.

Then Isak muttered, ‘I know I said I wanted to fuck you first, but I want you to tell me … what you want.’

Even opened his mouth and simply let his thoughts fall out without a filter.

He told Isak how much he wanted to rim him. How he wanted to make him desperate for it. See Isak whine and sweat and writhe until he couldn’t take it anymore. Then fuck him into the mattress.

Isak smiled and made fun of him for being so eager.

Nodding in agreement, Even admitted how hard it was to just see Isak lying naked next to him all morning, how badly he wanted him.

Then he couldn’t help but admit how badly he wanted to know what Isak sounded like when he was inside him.

Isak leaned up and dragged his lips across Even’s cheek, towards his ear.

‘So do it,’ he whispered.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of Norwegian used:
> 
> ‘Drit i dem, jeg kan ta vare på meg selv'  
> \-- 'Fuck them, I can take care of myself.'
> 
> \--
> 
> For the gist of the plot of this chapter: Isak opens up to Even about how he ended up in the kollektiv, revealing how guilty he feels about leaving his mama. Even barely hears it, too wrapped up in his own racing thoughts. He tries to explain his own family situation to Isak, who worries Even's ashamed of him. But it all ends up with the two of them in Isak's bed, regardless.
> 
> \--
> 
> Thank you to everyone for writing encouraging comments and leaving kudos, it means a lot! The next chapter title is 'Stop bringing that up.'  
> Fair warning: things are going to get real, very quickly.


	10. Stop bringing that up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rest of that morning in the kollektiv. Featuring some confessions, Even's spiralling thoughts, an overdue explanation, Isak's guilt, and an impulsive decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! Sorry for the delay, folks, I've just finished my PhD (yikes) so I didn't have much time the last week or two for writing for fun.
> 
> TW: References to depression, anxiety, panic attacks, medication, and a near suicide attempt. 
> 
>  
> 
> As always, any kudos or comments are most welcome <3

 

‘ _Even_ ,’ Isak sighed, as his head tipped back at the peak of his climax.

It was a sigh of pure contentment, a complete release. Isak looked so blissed out like that, he was practically glowing.

Even held him through it, pulled out as gently as he could when Isak fell on his side and his eyes fluttered shut. He went looking for something soft to wipe Isak’s chest clean, settling on a t-shirt he found under the desk.

After he’d cleaned up and climbed back onto the bed, he cuddled up next to Isak and started running his hand through his curls.

‘You ok, baby?’ he asked.

Isak hummed happily and smiled into the pillow. ‘I think I need another nap after that. Fuck.’

‘You’re so beautiful,’ Even said, the words just tumbling out of his mouth before he could think about it. ‘Can’t wait to get you into the crop top and tights I bought you last night.’

At that, Isak’s eyes flew open and stared at Even. He also stopped breathing for a few seconds.

‘The what?’

Even smiled and curled his fingers around Isak’s ear. ‘You remember the first time I came here?’

‘Yeah, when you got shitfaced off two beers. Did you just say you _bought_ me a crop top? And tights?’

Isak’s fists were balled on the pillow and his brow deeply furrowed. Even wasn’t sure if he was angry, surprised, turned on, or a mixture of all of them.

But he knew how sexy Isak would look in the clothes he’d bought, so he shrugged and said, ‘You’re gonna look so fucking good, Isak. And of course you don’t have to wear them if you don’t want. I just know you’d look amazing in them. And that’s why I got 3 boxes of lube because we’re gonna fucking need that much if you do wear them.’

‘Wait, wait, you bought lube aswell?’

Isak was lifting himself into a sitting position now, looking directly at Even, who smiled up at him and kept caressing his face. _Is there an angle where he doesn’t look totally gorgeous?_

‘Yeah! There was this selection of 15 different flavours, all in these mini bottles. So I bought 3 boxes of them. And because I get free delivery over a certain amount it made sense to buy you some new curtains—I got blackout ones because I know sometimes you find it hard to sleep—and a new rucksack, and then—oh, well I can’t tell you about the last thing, yet. It’s a surprise.’

Isak frowned again. ‘Even… I—I don’t know. You didn’t … I don’t know why you did all that. You didn’t have to. I mean, there was no need … it’s not like I expect—it’s not like we’re—I mean, whatever we’re doing here—’

 _How can he not understand? I don’t care about_ money _. Money is just a detail. Isak deserves everything, and everything is too beautiful and fragile and transient to get worked up over numbers._

_I can see it so clearly now. The parallel universes Isak talked about. We’re in love in all of them. All of them. Fuck statistics. We’re in love everywhere._

It’s only when Even looked at Isak’s face that he realises, once again, he said all his thoughts aloud.

‘In…love? You’re in love with me?’ Isak asked, still glowing and sticky and flushed from his eighth, tenth, twelfth orgasm. ( _How many times have we fucked now_?)

How could he not understand?

‘Isak,’ Even whispered, ‘I’ve always been in love with you.’

He rolled on top of Isak again and kissed him deeply, licking into his mouth and moaning, because he just couldn’t get enough of the taste. ‘I’m in love with everything about you,’ he said, trailing his lips down Isak’s cheek and jaw.

‘Even—I—’

‘Do you know when I first saw you?’

The pause following Even’s question was filled with Isak’s confusion. Isak tried to speak again and again but no words came out.

Finally Isak looked at Even carefully. ‘Even, is—is everything ok? You’re … you’re acting strangely. Ever since we met at KB, really. Do you … do you want to tell me anything?’

‘I want to tell you _everything_ ,’ Even answered simply. ‘I want to know what you like and what you don’t like and when you noticed me first and when you wanted me first. I saw you the first day of school and wanted you immediately.’

Isak sat up, pushing Even back so they were both upright. ‘You—you did?’

‘You were sitting on a bench with Jonas and Magnus and Mahdi and laughing. I fell in love on sight.’

Even inched forward so his crossed knees were touching Isak’s. When he glanced up to see how Isak reacted to his confession, he could only see a glazed-over kind of wonder.

‘I—I saw you, too,’ Isak murmured, ‘I saw you walk into the schoolyard with Sana and…fuck. I wanted you, too. I …’

He trailed off. After a moment’s pause, Isak reached out and held both of Even’s hands with his own, then brought them to his lips and kissed Even’s palms.

‘I saw you. I see you,’ he said into Even’s hands.

‘I see you even when you’re not around. You’re always in my thoughts, in my dreams.’

Even’s breath caught in his throat and he stared openly at this boy. _This boy_.

He couldn’t make eye contact while he spoke. He held on to Even’s hands, though, caressing them repeatedly, like a nervous gesture.

‘I can’t say it back yet,’ Isak whispered, kissing Even’s fingers now. ‘Not yet. But that doesn’t mean I…it doesn’t mean you’re alone in this.’

\--

The two boys curled up in Isak’s bed again, opening up without any interruptions, soothing any doubts with sweet kisses, and breathing in each other’s affection. Even never knew he was touch-starved until now, but he also didn’t realise how much Isak craved it, too, how he returned all of Even’s caresses, how he revelled in his touches, his hugs, his care.

‘I think Eskild hates me,’ Even admitted nervously.

Isak chuckled. ‘He doesn’t hate you. I mean, he’s not a huge fan, let’s be real, but that’s because he thought …’ Isak cleared his throat and then battled on, ‘He thought you were stringing me along. That you were using me to get to Mikael.’

Holding Isak closer, Even left countless kisses in his hair before he replied, ‘I’m sorry. I get why it seems that way. But I promise you, I never led you on. I never used you. You were the only person I wanted.’

Another note of silence fell between them. It was swiftly punctured by Even’s phone noisily buzzing on the nightstand again.

He rolled his eyes and sighed heavily.

‘Your parents?’ Isak asked.

Even reached out and snatched the phone, glancing at the new notifications. Unread messages in the Bakka squad groupchat. Yousef and Mikael also tried calling him.

‘No. Nothing important,’ he said, dumping his phone back where he found it.

\--

Another silence.

Isak shifted uncomfortably next to him, glancing around, searching for the right words. Finally he asked, ‘Why is Astrid so worried, Even?’

\--

_No, not like this. Not like this. Please. I don’t want you to see me like this, every last fucked up inch of me—once you see it, it can’t be unseen. You’ll stop wanting me. You’ll never look at me the same. You’ll stop loving me. And I won’t even be able to blame you for it._

\--

Isak was scared. He was in Even’s arms and clearly afraid, as he stared at Even and shook his head.

‘I don’t understand what’s happening. Please talk to me. I promise I won’t stop wanting you. All I see is you.’

\--

Even told him. Though he felt like he was exposing all the parts of him that would disgust Isak the most, the most hateful, pitiful, pointless parts of him, he told him.

Because Isak was hurting from not knowing, not understanding, and Even couldn’t bear to see it.

So, despite feeling like he was wrenching open the worst and most disgusting secrets for Isak to judge, he told him. He told him about being diagnosed with ADHD when he was 9 after years of trouble focusing in class, being impulsive, hyperactive, inattentive. About how his parents overreacted and started controlling every part of his life, monitoring his schoolwork, managing his time, discussing the possibility of medication.

He told him about being diagnosed with anxiety at 15 when Mikael found him having a panic attack in his room. About how his parents reacted even worse to that, and send him immediately to a counsellor, Åse, who he still goes to every Saturday morning.

Isak never spoke, just held Even, and though his hands shook.

Even told him about his final year in Bakka, when his parents tried to have a ‘serious’ conversation with him about his impulsiveness and his inappropriate relationship with Mikael (when nothing had even _happened_ with them), and sat him down in the living room for two hours explaining he wasn’t normal, and that if he didn’t change, he’d have trouble getting a job, getting a real relationship, having any success.

He told him about how that conversation triggered weeks of anxiety about his schoolwork, his feelings for Mikael, his creeping feeling that something wasn’t right, something hadn’t been explained.

He told him about his 19th birthday, when he kissed Mikael, shocking them into avoiding him for three weeks. About how, after they’d talked it out in Elias’s hallway closet, Even’s anxiety only got worse, but instead of making his thoughts fast, it made them dark. And one night Astrid found him in his room, staring in the mirror and bitterly picking out all the things he hated about himself, crying, opening up a pill bottle.

Isak wasn’t shaking, then. His hands curled into two fists in Even’s tshirt, and he closed his eyes in hurt.

Even told him about the diagnosis Åse gave him, when he was finally prescribed medication, the Zoloft that messed with his body for weeks—fatigue, acne, constipation, weight gain. How he lay there in bed for weeks in a deep depressive episode, with nothing but his ugly body trapping him with his thoughts.

He told him about how he felt so alone. How, though everyone took care of him and checked in with him and wanted him to be better, he felt more alone than he’d ever felt. Because he was useless, pointless, aimless—and a burden. There was no point to anything now; he was well and truly fucked up. He had the prescription to prove it. There was no future for him, nothing set, nothing promised. Just a blank void with the only definite being that he had a mental health diagnosis he had to learn how to manage. Like a terminal illness.

Then Even told Isak about how no one gave up on him, though he gave them nothing but self-loathing and rejection for weeks. How Sana came by one day and left _The Second Sex_ on his nightstand and it changed his life. How Mikael came out as nonbinary and the first person they told was Even. How being trusted made him feel worthwhile again.

It was only then that Even looked into Isak’s eyes again, and saw that he was crying, silent tears streaming down his face into the pillow.

‘Baby? What’s wrong?’ Even asked. He caressed Isak’s face, trying to wipe them away as Isak shook his head.

‘I’m such an asshole,’ Isak muttered, squeezing his eyes shut as more tears slipped out.

Even was lost. Out of all the reactions he’d anticipated, none of them were this.

‘What are you talking about? Isak, please—’

‘I told you I didn’t want mentally ill people in my life! That night in the tree, at the bonfire! Fuck,’ Isak’s voice broke then, and he sat up and put his head in his hands.

Even immediately sat next to him and rubbed his hand soothingly over his naked back.

‘Baby—’

‘No! No, Even. I should never have said that. I… I’m still fucked up over my mama and how my papa didn’t even _try_ , and here I am making the _same_ fucking mistake he did, I hate myself so much.’ Isak was sobbing now, grabbing two fistfuls of hair and hiding his face in his knees.

Even tried to calm him, but it seemed the more he did, the more upset Isak became.

‘It—it all makes sense,’ Isak said between shaky breaths, ‘I’ve become the lying piece of shit my papa is. Abandoning my mama, and rejecting you. What the fuck is wrong with me.’

‘Isak,’ Even said sharply. ‘Isak, look at me.’

 After a few moments of collecting himself, Isak finally looked up from his knees to Even’s eyes. His eyes were red-rimmed, watery, his lip wet, and he was still the most beautiful person Even had ever seen.

‘You never lied, and you never rejected me. You’re allowed to have ambivalent feelings about your mama. I don’t know the full story there, but I know enough to know that you’re doing your best. Please stop beating yourself up. I don’t want you to feel guilty about this. My mental health issues are _mine_. They’re my burden, not yours.’

‘But I want them to be,’ Isak muttered quietly. ‘I want to be good enough to help.’

Even’s heart broke all over again. This boy was too good. And it was all going to fall around their ears.

‘I mean it,’ Isak said, with more conviction. ‘I want to. I want to be that person. I wasn’t enough for my mama, but I—I want to make amends, to help, to support you, to—’

He cut himself off, staring down at his hands again, before he swallowed down his fear and looked back up at Even.

‘I want you to let me love you, Even,’ he said. It came out as barely more than a whisper. And Even was helpless.

‘Isak,’ he sighed, jumping forward and kissing him with all the tenderness and heartache he couldn’t contain.

‘Let me try,’ Isak said, gasped really, between their frantic kisses. ‘ _Please_ let me try.’

How on earth could Even say no?

\--

He felt invincible, now. Ecstatic. He couldn’t deny Isak. Surely no one could.

He didn’t know how long more they spent rolling around his bed. Surely no one had ever had sex this good. How could it even be this good?

The small fear that had sprouted in him earlier was growing steadily in his mind— _it’s not going to last, something is wrong, something is wrong, something bad is about to happen, something bad always happens_ —and Even remembers he threw away all his meds. So it was probably his anxiety.

He was high on sex, and love, and love, and love—and oh. He loves Isak. He is _in love_ with Isak.

\--

‘I want you to stay in this bed, with me, naked, for eternity. Just the two of us.’

Even was straddling Isak, cupping his face with both hands, and he’d long since lost track of time. All he knew was that he wanted time to stop.

‘I love the sounds you make when you come,’ he said, ‘I love your taste. I love how tight you feel on my fingers. I love the shape of your glorious ass. And the fact that you accidentally farted that time while I was fingering you and you couldn’t stop laughing—’

‘Oh my _god_ stop bringing that up—’

Isak was giggling, hiding his face in the pillow, and half-heartedly hitting Even’s thighs. Even rolled his hips so Isak could feel how hard he had become just thinking this aloud.

‘I love how you tip your head back when I kiss your neck because it turns you on so fucking much. I love how you moan when I kiss your thighs. I love this spot, right here,’ he said, as he kissed under the corner of Isak’s jaw, which prompted Isak to let out an involuntary whimper, ‘and how it makes you melt into me. Fuck, Isak. You’re so beautiful. I just want you to be here forever, just letting me make love to you over and over again.’

‘Even, I—we’ve already fucked like six times, I don’t know if I can again—’

‘Shh, baby,’ Even whispered, ‘it’s ok.’

‘Aren’t you tired? Jesus, I feel like I’m made of jelly.’

‘I’m not tired. How can I be when I’ve got this hot piece between my legs?’

‘Take a picture, it’ll last longer,’ Isak mumbled back, though he still had a grin on his face.

Even hopped excitedly on top of him. ‘Is that an invitation for some nudes?’ he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Isak rolled his eyes and chuckled. ‘I’m still waiting on _your_ nudes.’

‘Your wish is my command,’ Even replied, reaching for his phone.

‘Oh my god! Even,’ Isak laughed, swatting his hand down, ‘I’m about to fall asleep, seriously. Let’s nap, ok? I promise once we wake up I’ll have enough energy to blow you so good you can’t feel the lower half of your body. The nudes can wait.’

Even laughed, ‘Deal. I’ll sort some food for you, baby. I know what you like.’

Isak nodded, only half-hearing him, as he sank into the pillow, falling immediately to sleep.

\--

Even jumped out of bed, still completely naked, and realised he had to make good on his promise.

\--

He had to take nudes that were good enough for the National Gallery. Tasteful, artistic, suggestive, but not afraid to be explicit. Something that alluded to religious iconography—The Creation of Adam?—but something classical too—Michelangelo’s David?—but something forward-looking in art—maybe the framing could be altered to centre the picture more, give more context. There was something romantic about these pictures being taken in his boyfriend’s apartment, in his bathroom, in his bedroom. That needed to be part of the story, too.

Isak was going to be so proud of him, and so turned on.

 _This is going to be perfect_.

Even took hundreds of pictures, edited them, framing and reframing, using his design apps to include abstract pictures of Isak’s curtains, his shower curtain, his rug. These were pictures that spoke to a love beyond the physical.

It was home.

\--

Once he was happy with a handful, Even posted them to Instagram, just as a preview. He was going to be _famous_ , so he just needed some feedback, a sense of what worked for public consumption and what didn’t.

He was going to get this right. He was going to be an artist, with a gallery. Everything was going to change. His parents wouldn’t be confused about him anymore. This was his ticket. This was where everything was going to change.

He had a purpose now. Isak would be proud of him. Isak will _love_ him. Isak, Isak, _Isak. Isak’s probably going to be hungry when he wakes up. We did have sex for pretty much the last 12 hours._

Even jumped into the kitchen and pulled out every single food item he could find. He was going to make Isak a _feast_.

No—the food in the kollektiv wasn’t good enough for Isak. _Who am I kidding. This is our first morning together. I’m about to become famous. We need to mark this._

This needed to be perfect.

\--

He ran outside, once he hastily pulled his shoes on, made sure his wallet was in hand. He glanced at the electric clock in the lobby, which said it was just after noon. _OK, then. Where would Isak want food from?_

It was obvious.

_Isak loves McDonalds. It doesn’t matter that he deserves so much more. He’ll get what he wants._

Even walked out into the crisp late autumn morning, and headed straight for the McDonalds in Storgata. He knew he could get a breakfast fit for champions for Isak, and Isak would love him for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for reading <3
> 
> Talk to me on Twitter (@panshambles) though my account is private, but add me and I'll follow you back; or on tumblr (mseadaoin).
> 
> For those of you who're confused as to why my username switched to panshambles--it's because i'm still figuring out my orientation (mostly thanks to SKAM) and so i'm identifying more as pan than bi now. (Will my indebtedness to Julie Andem/Even Bech Næsheim/Henrik Holm ever end? No).
> 
> Also I've made an open Spotify playlist for this fic here - https://open.spotify.com/user/eadaoin12/playlist/0jU3BaKBNVF5ZfVeuC5izg?si=pZcwszM9QNmrt-eEVToZpA
> 
> Things are unfortunately going to get worse before they get better (isn't that always the way), but I promise they will get better. The next chapter title is, 'Nothing has ever felt like this.'


	11. Nothing has ever felt like this.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even leaves the kollektiv with nothing but good ideas. Features a scared family, some understanding colleagues, the diagnosis, Astrid's unconditional support, and a surprise visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for leaving kudos and comments on this the last few weeks--I promise I haven't forgotten about it! I finished my PhD and swiftly fell ill, but thankfully am back on my feet again. Here's the latest chapter, I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> TW: Discussion of drugs, ableist thoughts, self-destructive spirals and self-doubting thoughts, misgendering of a NB character.

 

There’s a creeping fear. An increasing, creeping fear, sneaking up Even’s spine, curling into the back of his neck, snaking up to his temples, pinching behind his eyes. He can feel it make his heart pound and weigh heavy.

Something is wrong. Something is wrong. He’s never felt like this before, and though he’s flying on air, his hands are shaking.

‘Alright, you surely know in your right mind that you can’t walk around the centre of Oslo naked, and you don’t smell drunk,’ the policeman says, turning in the front seat to size Even up and down. ‘So what is it, cocaine, acid, ecstasy, amphetamines? Let’s just cut to the chase.’

Even shook his head and tried a smile. ‘My boyfriend—he’s at home, and he needs food. I need to get it for him. It’s all coming together, it’s amazing. Nothing has ever felt like this.’

The second policeman, sitting behind the wheel, looks at the first, then stares at Even in the rearview mirror. ‘His pupils aren’t dilated. But it sounds like coke. If he was on e or acid, he’d be tripping balls by now, but he just seems manic. If he normalises in ten minutes, it’s definitely coke. Otherwise, my guess is amphetamines.’

Even shook his head again and pushed his hands forward to gesture, suddenly noticing that his arms were bare. His legs were bare. His groin was bare. He was naked. In a policecar.

The creeping fear ratchets up tenfold.

‘N-no,’ he blurts out, ‘I was meant to take amphetamines when they diagnosed my ADHD, but my parents refused and I went to counselling instead, but that’s not—I need—I was going to McDonalds, to get my boyfriend some food so that when he wakes up I’m there and he can eat and I can tell him what I did, so I have to be there when he wakes up—’

The first policeman interrupts. ‘What’d you do?’

‘I made _art_. It’s gonna—you’ll see—it’s gonna be famous. I promised Isak. I swear. It’s gonna change everything. Isak—I hope he loves it.’

The second policeman sighed. ‘We’re going to have to detain him until he crashes. He’s clearly harmless, and non-violent, so at least there’s no obvious psychotic side effects. We’ll just, I don’t know, rustle up a jumpsuit so he’s not exposing himself. Hey, kid, what’s your name?’ he added, raising his voice.

‘Even Bech Næsheim. I’ve been waiting to tell Isak why ‘Bech’ is my middle name but I want to save it for a special occasion. I want him to know how important it is. Because I want him to have my name someday.’

Even didn’t know why he was talking so much, so fast. Why was he naked? Why was he in a policecar? When would his papa find out? _Was Isak awake yet? What happened? What happened?_

Through the stream of questions, Even realised he was still talking out loud.

‘I’m going to ask him to marry me, I know I am. I’ll drive up to his kollektiv in a white limo Tesla, and shout, “Princess Vivian!” and then climb up to him and I’ll be wearing a tie, I’ll learn how to tie a tie, I’ll wear a tie and I’ll ask him, “What happens once he’s saved her?” And Isak will know, he’ll know what to say, and he’ll kiss me and say “She saves him right back.”’

The second policeman closed his eyes and exhaled heavily, leaning forward on the steering wheel. ‘ _Faen_. David, it’s Asbjørn’s kid.’

The first policeman frowned, then looked back at Even. His furrowed brows lifted as his mouth opened. ‘Of course. I should’ve recognised him from the photos.’

‘Should you call him, or will I?’

The first policeman took out his phone. ‘I’ll do it.’ Before he could punch out the number, the second policeman put his hand over the keys.

‘Wait.’

‘What?’

‘The kid talked about a boyfriend—Isak. Right, Even?’

Even nodded. ‘Isak. He’s asleep. That’s why I left, and why I need to get back—’

‘Shit. I’m pretty sure—’

‘It’s not our business.’

‘But Asbjørn—’

‘I said it’s not our business. We’re going to call him, tell him exactly what happened, the rest is the kid’s problem.’

The first policeman raised the phone to his ear. ‘Asbjørn, it’s David. Hey. Listen, we’ve got your boy. Yeah. Yeah. No, he’s alright. We’ve got him in the backseat. Like you suspected, we think he probably partied a little too hard last night. I should tell you—it seems like it’s taking a while for the effects to wear off. Mm. Yeah. Well—that’s…that’s the hard part to explain. We’ll bring him to the house right now. Shouldn’t be any more than twenty minutes. Ok.’

\--

Even remembered walking down Kristparken when an elderly woman with two small kids walked past and shouted at him. He remembered walking down Møllergata and seeing every person walking past shrieking or shielding their eyes. He remembered a few minutes later how a policecar pulled up and shoved him in the backseat without warning.

But he couldn’t remember a time when he saw his parents more furious, more disturbed than they were that afternoon.

He sat in the armchair in their living room, still in the old boiler suit the policemen had gotten from the station on their way to the house. And the day passed in a blur of admonishments, shrieks, tears.

His papa broke his phone by throwing it against the wall. His mama couldn’t sit for more than a minute, pacing between the sofa and the window and back again.

His mama cried. His papa shouted. His sister Astrid appeared at some point with his backpack, which he realised meant she’d gone to the kollektiv in the interim.

This went on for hours. One minute Even felt like he was floating above it all, and the next, he could feel the pull downwards, his mind and heart both sinking, plummeting into lifelessness.

\--

_There’s just no point. I fuck up everything. I am a failure. I can try to be a point of pride, but it’ll always end like this. In tears. In bits. I’m just a burden on everyone. A burden. A burden. A burden. On mama. On papa. On Astrid. On Isak. On Mikael. On Sana. It would continue like this forever. A series of failures punctuated by attempts at something better._

_There goes Nissen, too. The principal will never accept me back now._

_There goes Isak. He’ll have woken up, no clue where I am, and when Astrid arrived (how did she arrive? How did she know where I was?) she will have told him I’d just picked up and left without a word. He’ll hate me, and he has every right. Maybe it’s best, too. Maybe it’s for the best he’s free of me._

_There goes my mental stability and routine. I’ve officially lost it. I walked through Oslo naked. To get Isak food. What the fuck was I thinking. What the fuck. I’m psychotic._

_There go my prospects. How can I be trusted. How can I be successful at anything. How can I be happy._

\--

His parents exhausted themselves asking Even what had happened, how he could have _let_ it happen.

They asked him how he could be so selfish, so irresponsible, so thoughtless. How he could disappear without a word. How he could throw away his meds. How he could humiliate his father in front of his colleagues. How he could pull some prank by walking around the city naked. How he could throw his life away for some boy. How he could risk his life. How he could fool around with some boy. How he could be so sick. How he could be so perverted.

After the shouting came the unbearable silence. They just sat in the living room, silent.

Even knew without asking that through the anger and the embarrassment was an overwhelming fear. But he also knew there was a new disappointment in him that he’d never be able to puncture. It was clear on their faces as they held their heads in their hands.

The silence was endless. Even felt like he was living it through every parallel universe where he fucked up. The silence was infinite.

When his parents finally sent him to his room, Astrid followed him a few minutes later. He sank wordlessly into bed just as she walked through the door.

She was quiet. She was gentle. She sat on the edge of the bed with a soft hand on his shoulder and filled in the gaps.

_When you weren’t answering our calls or voicemails, we knew something must have happened. I called Mikael, and they tried to get the Bakka guys to get you on the phone, but nothing worked._

_Papa was about to send out a search party when I heard from Mikael this morning that you’d sent them a message late last night. You—you told them you bought a trip to Morocco for you and Isak._

_They didn’t know til then you were with Isak. And—I know you probably don’t want to hear this now, love, but I think that hurt them._

_Mikael had been to Isak’s place before so they guessed that’s where you were. I told papa and mama I knew you were safe, but they forced me to tell them how I knew. I’m sorry—I didn’t want to be the one to tell them about Isak, but we were so scared, sweetheart._

_Mama and papa insisted on someone going to the kollektiv to get you and bring you home. I went, and I woke Isak up with the buzzer. He was so confused, god love him. And when I explained how hysterical we all were looking for you, he was scared for you, too._

_We both left and walked around looking for you, until mama called me and explained you’d been found. Isak—he was as relieved as I was. I think he cares about you a lot._

\--

She also tried to ask Even what he’d done.

_Isak told me you bought things online? He didn’t know how much or what exactly. But he was worried why you’d done that. And so was I, then. Especially after your impulse decision to buy that trip to Casablanca? I—I don’t know if it’s true, love, but if it is… I think we should call Åse._

\--

Even squeezed his eyes shut and refused to let her see him cry. He burrowed into the pillows and willed for sleep to take him away from the nightmare he’d created.

\--

He was woken up by his mama shaking his arm.

‘Lovey—you… you maxed out your credit card? And took out a loan?’

Even grunted.

‘I’m…I’m not angry, sweetheart,’ his mama whispered. ‘I just want to understand. Can you let me know if what I’m about to say is true? A simple nod?’

After a beat of silence, Even nodded.

‘You—you bought a bunch of stuff online last night? A trip to Marrakech?’

Nod.

‘And you immediately took out a loan to cover the costs your credit card couldn’t?’

Slow nod.

‘You didn’t think there would be consequences—you couldn’t feel how they’d affect you?’

Nod.

‘You felt ecstatic all night and all morning?’

‘Yeah,’ Even muttered out.

‘Honey, I need you to tell me exactly what you felt.’

Even frowned and looked up at his mother. She’d never asked him that about his mental health before.

‘I—I felt energized. Like I … could do anything. I couldn’t really sleep, and—’ he paused, not knowing how to explain to his homophobic mother that his sex drive for his boyfriend had gone through the roof.

‘Did you do anything impulsive?’

‘Yeah,’ he said, quietly. And then remembered exactly what he had done.

‘Oh fuck,’ he said, ‘shit. I need someone’s laptop right now.’

His mother shook her head. ‘Honey, we already know about the nude pictures. Mikael called us just before you were found to tell us he’d seen them online but hadn’t been able to get in touch with you. He guessed your Instagram password, though, and deleted them.’

Even closed his eyes. Well, that’s one problem out of the way.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘I don’t—I didn’t—’

‘Honey, it’s ok,’ his mama continued, ‘you didn’t realise at the time that it was a bad idea, right?’

Even frowned. ‘Yeah…how did you know…?’

‘What else, sweetie?’

Even wracked his memories, trying to think.

‘And you had loads of energy?’ his mama prompted, ‘Couldn’t sit still, or organise your thoughts, or slow down?’

‘Yeah,’ Even croaked out. ‘But … but how do you know…?’

‘I understand, honey,’ his mama sighed. ‘Don’t worry. I understand now. We’ll talk about it in the morning.’

She stood up and offered her hand to Even. ‘I’m sorry, we were so scared for you. We didn’t know what was happening. But I think we know now. You need to rest. We can talk more when you’ve rested.’

\--

Even slept for 18 hours.

His mama woke him up only to get him to eat, despite the fact he could barely stomach toast. He wasn’t depressed. He could recognise how this wasn’t the tell-tale heaviness in his limbs that came with his depression; he was just exhausted, and down, and terrified.

And it was easier not to be standing on his own two feet, with the knowledge that Isak must hate him now. Isak, who woke up alone, to the insistent buzzing of Astrid’s fear. Isak, who was forced out into the city to look for him. Isak, who must resent him for leaving him. Isak, who—Even began to realise—he would never get back.

And with that came the terrible thought that it was probably just as well. He knew he was always going to end up alone.

\--

When he woke up again, it was Monday evening.

He realised his parents never tried to wake him up to go to school.

That’d cut into his 10%. _Shit_.

He was meant to be catching up on school, not skipping it. If he was ever able to go back to Nissen, now. If he could even stomach the thought of seeing everyone, who’d now seen all of him. By his own stupid volition.

Even had never felt this low. And he couldn’t check his phone to gauge how bad it all was, because it was currently in pieces at the bottom of the kitchen bin. But it was probably just as well. He didn’t really want to know how everyone would know for sure he was crazy now, that he put up almost fifty nudes of himself online, that he walked around Oslo naked in the middle of a Saturday.

It was like his life was on repeat, he was doomed to play out the same scenario of making a fool of himself, everyone finding out, and realising he was a complete failure. That he was a burden. A waste of time.

What a ridiculous idea that he could ever make art. His nudes were probably blurry, over-filtered pieces of shit. How could he have ever convinced himself he was worth anything? At least Isak didn’t have to live with him now. At least he spared him that bullet.

 

Just as these thoughts ricocheted around his head, there was a quiet knock on the door.

Even sighed, and tried to find the energy to say ‘Come in,’ but when he opened his mouth, no sound came out. The door opened anyway, and Astrid came in.

‘Hey, love. I was wondering if you wanted to try taking a shower. It’s smelling kind of ripe in here.’

Even closed his eyes.

‘I can change the bedsheets while you do,’ she continued, ‘and then you can go straight back to sleep. Promise.’

Even sighed again, and slowly nodded.

‘Ok, buddy. You want me to give you a hand?’

Astrid was sitting on the other side of the bed, gently rubbing his shin. Even stirred and shook his head. Finally he got his voice to work, ‘I’m not depressed. I mean, I’m close. But I’m fine.’

He managed to get in the shower five minutes later, and couldn’t deny the feeling of hot water washing away all the dried sweat, cum, and grease from his skin was so welcome. He stayed under the spray for nearly half an hour, turning the heat up and up until it was nearly painful and his skin was red and blotchy from it.

There was a sharp knock at the door and Astrid’s voice, ‘The bed is made, honey, you can come out now.’

Even turned off the shower and dried himself off. Ten minutes later he was back in bed, trying to drink a cup of tea Astrid brought him.

‘So, now you’re awake,’ she said, and trailed off.

Even raised his eyebrows at her. ‘Yeah?’

‘You’ve had a lot of visitors since yesterday. All day. For the last two days, I should say.’

Surprised by this news, Even swallowed down a piece of toast and looked at Astrid, waiting for her to continue.

‘First it was Mikael, who actually stayed with you most of last evening, but the rest of the Bakka squad came by, too. They’re all so glad you’re ok. Mikael especially. I know you’re worried people are mad at you, but they’re not. Like I said before, I think Mikael was hurt, but they still love you.’

Even didn’t reply.

‘But, uh…’ Astrid went on, ‘this morning, Isak stopped by.’

‘What?’ Even choked out, ‘Isak?’

‘Don’t worry,’ Astrid said, ‘Mama and papa weren’t here. It was just me. He’s a sweet kid. I mean, I see why you like him so much.’

‘What …’ Even asked, not quite sure what he needed to know first.

‘He’s not angry with you. Well, I think he’s a little angry, because he’s very confused. He was clearly a little ashamed and … frustrated … that he didn’t know what had happened.’

Astrid paused, ‘He just wanted to understand and…’ she trailed off, and took another deep breath.

‘Ok, Even, I’m going to be brutally honest with you because you need to know this.’

Even put down his cup and looked at her. ‘Did he cut me off?’

Astrid frowned, ‘No. God, no. That’s not the issue. But…you probably realise that Saturday morning wasn’t—that you didn’t really know what was happening to you, either.’

Even nodded. ‘I felt—well, I felt everything. But I was… terrified. It was—’

_It was a lot like mania._

Astrid put her hand over Even’s clasped ones. ‘I’m sorry that I’m the one to tell you, but…mama and papa went to see Åse this morning. And she thinks what happened to you is actually…well.

She took another pause. ‘Even, you don’t have ADHD. Or just depression.’

Somewhere under his skin, Even could feel the terror rising, alongside a slick sense of certainty. Beneath the terror was a slowly awakening suspicion that he wasn’t in control, and for once it wasn’t his fault.

He hung his head and waited for the final blow.

‘You’ve been misdiagnosed. Which is very common. The symptoms are so easily mistaken for something else, especially in teenagers. What you thought before, what we thought before, was ADHD was actually a kind of … hypomania…’ Astrid’s voice faded out, a sure sign of her nerves. She didn’t need to finish the sentence for Even to feel the anvil drop on him.

‘It’s also why you’ve reacted so erratically to your meds,’ she segued, ‘Zoloft was meant to treat your depression, and Klonopin your anxiety, but they just tipped the balance of … well. The doses you were prescribed were all wrong, because they were trying to treat two separate things, when in fact they were messing up the scale of your actual mental health illness …’

She took another deep breath, and squeezed Even’s hands. ‘Sweetie. You’ve probably guessed by now. You had a manic episode last week.’

\--

Even did not leave the bed for another four days.

\--

Friday morning. It was the weekend again, nearly one week since he tore his own life apart. Nearly one week since the most basic things he knew about himself were once again proven to be wrong. Nearly one week since he ruined every chance he could have had with Isak.

But Even had started to pull himself together. As Astrid brought him breakfast that morning, he opened up for the first time since the diagnosis.

‘It—It makes sense. I get now that I’ve always been bipolar. My temper tantrums as a kid, my mood swings, my impulsiveness, my negativity—it all makes sense. So a part of me feels like the pieces of the puzzle have finally come together, and it’s… it’s kind of a relief, now. I hated having depression _and_ anxiety _and_ ADHD. Now I get why the meds worked sometimes and sometimes not.’

Astrid nodded sympathetically. Everyone was sympathetic. Everyone _pitied_ him.

His papa hadn’t darkened the door of his bedroom since the diagnosis. His mama sighed and cried and shuffled furniture around in her distraction. Astrid, though, at least she listened to him.

‘As much as I feel relieved to know that and know how to deal with it,’ Even continued, ‘I’m fucking furious. I’ve gone from depression to anxiety to bipolar. I have no control. I can’t control anything, not my moods, not my decisions, not my life choices? I just feel so negative. Especially.. especially because it comes right after Isak thought he could accept me.’

‘How can I burden him with this now?’

\--

Astrid stayed with him all weekend, and three more times Isak tried to visit, but each time Even shook his head and told Astrid he couldn’t see him. He couldn’t face it.

His other friends tried to visit too, but Even refused to see anyone. He didn’t want to think about how to tell the truth, how to begin addressing the huge new brand that he felt imprinted on him. 

\--

Monday came again, and Even stripped the bed, opened the windows, put on a load of laundry.

He was planning on going back to Nissen the following day, and needed to start getting in control of things again.

It was then he heard a knock on the door.

Frowning, Even glanced at his phone to check the time. His parents were at work. Astrid, too, had left early that morning. He decided it must be the postman.

Even ambled towards the front door, grateful that the postman chose a time when Even was showered and in clean clothes.

He opened the door. And his heart stopped.

‘Isak.’

\--

_Isak is beautiful_ , Even thought, _he’s still so beautiful, though he has heavy bags under his eyes, and his hair is pulled back under a snapback and he looks like he hasn’t slept properly in a week._ Which, Even supposed, makes sense. It’d been about a week since Even completely fucked everything up.

‘Isak,’ Even said, almost as a knee-jerk reaction, everything he wants to say wrapped up in that one word. He wanted to say, _I miss you. I’m sorry. I can’t believe I did this. I was so afraid and I didn’t understand what was happening. I know you’ll never want to be with me._

Isak stood in front of him, pulling nervously at his sleeves, watching Even carefully. He opened his mouth and closed it again, bit his lip, looked at the ground, and then looked up at Even again. ‘I wanted to see you all week but your sister said you weren’t ready for visitors.’

Pause.

‘How are you feeling?’

Even wanted to laugh, the question is so absurd. He felt everything, looking at Isak, but it was exhausting and terrifying after a week of feeling absolutely nothing inside. Instead, he realised, he was crying right there on his front doorstep.

‘Shit,’ Isak said, and ran forward to hug Even close to him, which only prompted Even to cry even harder.

Isak manoeuvred them inside the house and shut the door with his foot, holding on to Even tighter and tighter.

‘I missed you. _Fuck_ , Even. I missed you so fucking much.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! The diagnosis! I'm sorry to say, though, things are gonna get worse before they get better.
> 
> As always, I'm open to comments and feedback. It really means the world to me. My twitter is @panshambles if you want to find me on there.
> 
> Next chapter title: 'You're one to fucking talk.'


	12. You're one to fucking talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even and Isak talk. A lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick second update this week because I'm about to be very busy again--I'm sorry, this is the most difficult chapter. But I promise it gets better from here. <3

 

‘This is so stupid, I’m overreacting.’

‘Even, shut up and let me hug you.’

They were standing in Even’s front hallway, the wooden floor creaking under them as Isak swayed him gently side-to-side.

Even squeezed hard, scarcely believing Isak was here in his arms. He felt so stocky and firm, and he was so gentle, caressing Even’s shoulders in long strokes of his hands.

They stood there, tightly entwined, until Even let out a last shaky exhale and moved back to face Isak at arm’s length.

Isak’s eyes roamed all over Even’s face, like he was trying to really confirm he was there. He smiled at Even—a happy, relieved grin. But when Isak’s glance dropped to Even’s lips, he automatically started to lean forward. Even’s immediate reaction was panic, and he tipped his chin down and deflected it. Isak promptly leaned back, hurt, confused, and trying not to let it show.

The moment was suddenly tense and uncomfortable. And Even hated it. There was so much unsaid, and he already felt in his gut he was not going to have the strength to give Isak what he wanted.

Isak was avoiding Even’s eyes now, his gaze fixed at his feet.

‘…Tea?’ Even offered. Tea seemed to be the beverage of choice for hard-as-fuck conversations.

His suggestion surprised Isak, though. He seemed to think about it for a second before he nodded slowly. ‘Sure.’

\--

As Even sat down at the kitchen table with two cups of camomile tea, each with a generous dollop of honey, there was nothing further to deflect with. He had to start talking somehow.

He’d already rehearsed in his mind what needed to be covered as the kettle boiled:

  * I’m sorry for that weekend, for running out on you, for scaring you, for ghosting you
  * I’m bipolar, by the way
  * So I don’t think you should be with me



But there was no easy way to segue into that. And he had a feeling Isak was going to put up a fight. They needed to build up to it.

After a few more moments of troubled silence, Even finally let the hammer fall on the ice: ‘I applied for Media Studies at UiO.’

If Isak was taken aback by this strange opener, he didn’t show it. Instead he finished his sip of tea and then gave Even a brilliant smile. ‘That’s terrific, Even. You finally gonna pursue film, then?’

Even nodded, and couldn’t help but give Isak a smile back. _He remembered_. ‘Yeah. That’s the plan, anyway. If I’m allowed to finish at Nissen, that is.’

‘But you’re back tomorrow, right?’

‘Yeah,’ Even conceded, ‘but the principal was pretty insistent from day one that I should have no absences and under no circumstances any more “incidents.” And I’m pretty sure posting nudes online, getting arrested and missing a week of school counts as an “incident.”’

He finished with a huff, fiddling with the paper tag draped over the lip of his cup.

Then Isak covered his hand with his own.

‘Hey. Look at me.’

Even did. He looked up and met Isak’s gaze. It made his gut twist, knowing he was about to crush the one good thing he had going.

‘Even—no one blames you for your episode. And if the principal does, well that’s discrimination. Ableism. It also happens to be complete bullshit.’

He gave Even that wide grin again, and Even’s heart dropped painfully.

Unable to fight him on that front, Even changed the subject again. ‘I left kosegruppe. My parents are putting their foot down, it’s all guns blazing from here on out until I can get back on top of work and make sure I graduate. That was the whole _point_ of Nissen. They can’t believe we’re back at square one a year later.’

Isak let go of Even’s hand and sighed in sympathy. ‘You’re not back at square one, though.’

‘Try telling them that,’ Even muttered.

‘You’ve got a diagnosis. And a proper prescription, for the first time, too. And…’

The silence that Isak trailed off into was still loud with what he left unsaid. _You’ve got me_.

But Even knew this talk was only going one way, and the quicker it got there, the better.

‘Mikael can’t look at me. I never told them I’d gotten together with you, until the text about my impulse buy of a trip, for the two of us, to fucking Casablanca. What a way to find out.’

Contra to Even’s expectations, though, Isak let slip a smirk.

‘Why are you smiling?’ he asked, incredulous.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Isak said, ‘it was dumb as hell. But it really strengthens my argument that you are always Doing The Most. Who else would max out their credit card buying flights to Morocco?’

Isak was chuckling quietly but Even couldn’t see the humour in it.

‘Homosexuality is fucking illegal in Morocco, Isak. Not only was it impulsive and extravagant, it was also an idea that was _dead on arrival_. If we went, and someone found out about us, we could legitimately be arrested.’

Isak shrugged. ‘Yeah, but we just wouldn’t get caught. Didn’t you book us into a penthouse at the _Four Seasons_? We’d have utmost privacy for our nefarious activities up there,’ he said with a suggestive eye brow raise. ‘Plus, the fact that we’d be fucking each other’s brains out in a country that forbids it is…kind of hot.’

‘Well it’s a moot point, anyway,’ Even continued, ignoring Isak’s bait. ‘I booked it for last weekend, so the flights and the hotel bookings are all useless.’

‘Ehh no they weren’t?’ Isak countered.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Sana and Yousef went. Didn’t you know?’

Even fell back in his chair. No one had told him. No one had told him Sana and Yousef were even _together_.

Isak laughed at Even’s reaction. ‘Wow. You really were caught up in your little cocoon here. Yeah—Sana told me that your mama called her and offered her the trip. All the bookings were non-refundable because you bought them so close to the time. So someone had to go.’

This news met Even in complete disbelief.

‘Well,’ he finally said. ‘Yousef and Sana.’

Isak nodded, an impish grin back on his face. ‘Sana and Yousef. They’re actually due back today.’

‘Shit,’ Even added, still reeling. ‘Have I missed anything else this big?’

Pausing for effect, Isak pretended to think hard, and then let slip another smile. ‘Noora moved out of William’s flat, and she’s been squatting at Eva’s the past few weeks.’

‘You’re kidding!’

‘Nope,’ Isak said, smug with gossip, ‘they’re living the whole witchery-horoscopes-and-succulents gay dream.’

Even couldn’t help but laugh a little at that summary. ‘Yeah. The dream.’

‘And,’ Isak continued, ‘Mahdi had his Tinder date. You remember he talked about it at the _vors_ before Hallowe’en? The American girl at UiO?’

‘Oh yeah, vaguely.’

‘Yeah, turns out,’ Isak took another sip of tea for dramatic effect, ‘he made some joke to her before they met about doing a line at work, and when they went out for drinks that night, she arrived with a whole bag of coke. Dropped it next to him, and announced, “That’s how much 1000kr will get you. You in?”’

‘What!’

They shared another laugh about Mahdi’s tumultuous date—a long story about him getting high on coke and having energetic sex with this girl, then going back to hers and accidentally breaking off the tap on her sink, leading to an embarrassing mid-night plumber’s visit where they had to have a serious conversation about water systems, while on a comedown.

‘He insisted the sex was worth it,’ Isak said.

Even huffed out a laugh.

A sudden silence fell between them, and Even could sense how Isak’s mind returned to their own energetic sex. He did, too. His mind quickly flashed a kaleidoscope of images of the two of them pressed together in Isak’s bed. He blinked and wished it away. That wouldn’t help him talk now.

‘You know…’ Isak began. And even before he went on, Even knew where it was leading.

‘Shit,’ Isak laughed. ‘Can we talk about this? I mean—are we there yet?’

Even kept his eyes trained on the cup in his hands and raised his eyebrows, trying neither to smile nor grimace. He had no idea how to react to Isak’s attempt at levity.

‘I’m just gonna say it,’ Isak said, punctuating his announcement with a strong clap of his palm on the tabletop. ‘That was the best fucking sex I’ve ever had.’

Even felt his cheeks flush at the memories. It was the best sex he’d ever had, too. It had never been like that with anyone, let alone the _first time_ with anyone.

‘And I know you feel the same,’ Isak said firmly.

Sensing that Even was not going to respond—instead electing to take a measured sip of his tea—Isak soldiered on.

‘When you rimmed me—’

Even spit his tea all over himself in shock, clapping his hand to his mouth and then running to the sink. Delighted by Even’s shyness, Isak laughed, ‘What, was that too intimate for you?’

Even shook his head and dabbed himself down with a teatowel. ‘No, by all means,’ he said, layering his words in sarcasm, ‘continue talking about my tongue in your ass.’

‘I will,’ Isak said defiantly. ‘When you rimmed me, I was so… fuck. It was so good, I forgot to breathe for a minute.’

Standing by the sink still, Even gripped the countertop and bit his lip. He was finding it hard to breathe right now. Especially because he knew there was a strong possibility that if Isak kept talking like this, they’d end up acting out their words again.

Then he realised with a terrible thunderbolt of guilt that that’s probably what Isak was trying. If he could get Even to open up to him like that, maybe he could bypass—maybe destroy—the guard Even was desperately trying to put up.

He couldn’t let that happen. They couldn’t live in this cycle of Even’s brief progress and plummeting failures. No matter how spectacular the sex was.

Isak, sensing Even’s reticence, continued talking. ‘And then I realised you probably _knew_ how into that I would be. Because of the time we talked about those Arabic curses the Bakka squad taught Mahdi. You remember?’

Of course Even remembered. He couldn’t forget the intensity of keeping Isak’s gaze as he openly said ‘Lick my ass,’ and ‘My penis in you.’ How Isak had panted, how he got hard just at the thought, right there in the middle of the living room.

Suddenly Isak’s feet were in front of him, his hands reaching out for Even’s. He hadn’t even heard him get up from the chair.

When he looked up, Isak was standing close to him, his eyes fixed on a point on Even’s chest, studiously avoiding direct eye contact.

‘I … I know this last week has been rough on you. I’m not trying to—I don’t know, diminish it? Or something. I just … I don’t want you to keep pushing people away.’ He intertwined their fingers, then, and Even’s heart finally broke.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No,’ Isak retorted. ‘No sorrys. Not today.’

‘Isak—'

‘ _No_ ,’ Isak repeated. ‘You can tell me anything you want, but there will be no apologies. I know you weren’t in control. I get that.’

‘Yeah but that doesn’t absolve me of scaring the fuck out of you, my friends, my family, and running out into the middle of the city—’

‘You really need to get over that.’

‘—Listen to me!’ Even said, releasing his hands from Isak’s and trying to gesture with them how serious he was.

‘Sure thing,’ Isak said, ‘so long as you stop acting like this is the end of the fucking world.’

‘I’m fucking bipolar, Isak!’ Even shouted.

‘I know.’

The nonchalant simplicity in Isak’s expression took Even completely by surprise.

‘…What?’

‘Astrid told me the last time I was here. I know you’d want to tell me yourself but in Astrid’s defence, I can be … stubborn,’ he said, with another sly smile. ‘As you already know.’

Even sighed and put his head in his hands. ‘You’re not … you don’t get it yet.’

‘What don’t I get?’

‘This is… this is it, now. This is me. It’s something I _have_ , forever. End of. I’m gonna be like this forever.’

Isak nodded. ‘Alright.’

Irritated with Isak’s insistent acceptance and light-heartedness, Even rolled his eyes and turned away, walking towards the window with an impatient huff.

‘Seeing as you haven’t already surmised it, I’m here, Even. I’m here. And seeing as you’re having difficulty understanding that I still care about you: I do care. And you need to let me. Please—just let me.’

\--

Even did his best to tell Isak how he was misdiagnosed, how he was still learning about what bipolar II means, how Åse had him on new doses of antidepressants, how they were already messing up his sleep schedule.

True to his word, Isak was there, and he listened without judgment. They sat side by side on the sofa in Even’s living room as he went through everything. And Isak let Even talk uninterrupted.

Until Even started pre-empting him.

‘I understand that you… you don’t hold it against me. You’re being—you’re being really amazing about it,’ Even began.

‘Whoa, why do I sense a “but” here?’

‘I was hypomanic before I was manic. I didn’t know, then, but that was what was happening. I ignored the fact that I knew you don’t want mentally ill people in your life, I just tried to have you for my own,’ Even explained.

Isak’s frown deepened as Even went on, but he waited for him to at least finish the thought.

‘But,’ Even continued. ‘just because we slept together doesn’t mean—you know, now that I’m a mess, who’s got bipolar, you shouldn’t feel obliged—you don’t have to pretend like—’

‘I don’t feel _obliged_ ,’ Isak retorted, hurt. ‘I’m not here because I feel responsible? What the fuck?’

‘I would understand if you did,’ Even replied, ‘I know you’re with Emma now and you didn’t mean to cheat on her, but you did—’

‘ _What?_ ’ Isak exclaimed, outraged. ‘What—what the fuck… I mean. Jesus. What has Emma to do with this?’

‘We can’t ignore the fact that we fooled around behind her back.’

‘You’re one to fucking talk, Even! What about Mikael?’

‘What about them?’ Even asked, ‘we broke up. Not that we were ever actually together in the first place—’

Isak rolled his eyes. ‘No, but I don’t see you telling them they might feel “obliged” to like you because you had a manic episode. Because you actually _fucking_ trust them. But I guess I’m just a second year fuck, who’s not got the stomach or—or, the _integrity_ to like you as you are, that I’m just going to _leave_ —’

‘Isak,’ Even said quietly, realising with a terrible clarity that this was not just about Even anymore.

‘No! You fucking _know_ , you _know_ how much I hate myself for leaving her, and you bring it up now, as if it’s my fault that I was 15, alone, and terrified. I’m not anymore! And I thought you thought better of me!’

There were tears gathered in the corners of Isak’s eyes, now. ‘This is such bullshit, Even. What’s next, you—you’re going to tell me the flirting, the love notes, the drawings, it was all part of the mania? That, that your feelings weren’t real? Because I see right through that.’

‘How can we know it wasn’t?’ Even asked, weakly. ‘How can _you_ know for sure from now on when I am myself and when it’s the bipolar?’

Isak’s anger only increased, but his voice dropped. ‘How can you say that? Of course you know your own feelings.’

Then Isak paused and looked Even once over. ‘Oh for fuck sake. You—you’re doing this deliberately. Pushing all my fucking sore spots to try and get me to leave so you can feel smug about your self-fulfilling prophecy that you’re always alone. You—you selfish piece of shit! This isn’t just about you!’

Isak was on his feet now, pacing about the living room, his hands wild in gesticulating as his outrage amplified.

‘Do you have any fucking idea,’ Isak went on, ‘any idea at all what it was like to wake up on Saturday to your sister knocking down my door in terror because no one had any idea where you were? When she got there, she was _wild_ with worry, Even, and when we realised you’d ran out without your phone, keys, _anything_ , we ran out and tried to look for you. That was the longest 30 minutes of my life. Until your mama called Astrid and explained you’d been found by the police and that you were safe, back at your parent’s house, only because you’re fucking lucky your dad’s a policeman too. And to top it all off, that I wasn’t allowed to see you. That they didn’t know what was wrong. That the doctor was going to see you and she’d call me once she knew what had happened.’

‘But the hell didn’t stop there. My phone was ringing off the hook with calls and messages and notifications from people who told me that you’d posted a bunch of nudes online and tagged me in all of them? So that everyone thought they were actually _mine_? That was before Mikael hacked your account and took them down.’

Even’s heart sank. He didn’t remember tagging Isak in the photos.

‘That’s when everything kicked off,’ Isak said. ‘I had countless questions about why you had nudes of me. If I’m queer. If we had a sex tape. If I knew the reason you left Bakka. Meanwhile I’m still wracked with guilt and terror about why you ran out. Was it because you told me you loved me and I wouldn’t say it back? Was it that I was _that bad_? Was it because you regretted everything we’d said, everything we’d done? Oh, but then the real fun part began.’

Even closed his eyes and willed himself to keep it together.

‘I started getting messages from people I didn’t even fucking know, telling me you’d tried to kill yourself before you came to Nissen. That you had a girlfriend for four years who you cheated on with Mikael—on your last birthday. That you and Mikael were playing me. That I was being fucking _punk’d_ or something, that it was all a big fucking game for your friend Elias’ vlog. I was so angry and confused but more than anything I was still _so fucking worried_ for you. As much as all these rumours hit every one of my insecurities, I was still _terrified_ for you.’

Isak sat down in the armchair opposite, staring at his hands. A long minute of silence endured between them. All at once the living room felt as long as a football field.

‘I spent three days in hell, Even, and the whole time, whenever someone told me you were crazy, or that you fucked me over, or this was all some big ruse to out me, I defended you—like, like a fucking _idiot_ because it turns out you don’t give enough of a shit about me to get out of your own self-loathing and see that this is bigger than you!’

Even knew. He knew Isak was right. He was absolutely right about all of it.

But that didn’t detract from the fact that Even was also right in protecting him. This was just the beginning of Even’s bipolar. This was only the fallout from his first manic episode.

What about the next one? What about the one after that? What about the depressive episodes in between? What then? Isak was right about Even’s self-fulfilling prophecy, but he was ignoring the plain, startling truth that followed it. Even wasn’t fit to be in a relationship. Even was only fit to be alone. Even was a burden to love, to be tolerated, to be monitored.

Isak would be doing the right thing by leaving him. That was the difference between his mother, and Even.

But Even also knew Isak would argue about this until Even submitted. He knew Isak would turn his own logic against him. So he did the only other thing he could. As much as he could feel the twisting suspicion that this was more about his self-destructive streak than a genuine concern for Isak’s wellbeing, he did the only other thing he could.

‘There’s one thing you haven’t addressed yet. The obvious thing.’

Isak stilled, and frowned. ‘What?’

‘You’re not really one to talk about dishonesty. You cheated on Emma with me.’

Isak stared at him. It was for far too long, just a piercing, hurt, disbelieving stare. ‘You’re fucking kidding. That’s all you took from that? That’s _it_? Fucking _Emma_?’

‘I’m just saying,’ Even said, biting back the voice inside that screamed at him to stop. ‘For someone who was the first to start the rumours about you at Nissen, you’re awfully forgiving of her. Whereas I keep your confidence, but everyone _else_ misinterprets what I did, when I was out of control during a manic episode, and suddenly you’re losing your cool and telling me I’m a selfish piece of shit.’

Isak was dumbfounded.

‘Seems like you trust Emma more than me. Seems like, you’re a bit confused about your sexuality, still. I’m the experiment, after all, right? I’m the one you asked back to your flat and got drunk so I’d stay over. I’m the one you asked to the neon party so you could flaunt Emma in front of me in some weak ploy to make me jealous. I’m the one you brought back home with you and begged to fuck you all night.’

Isak was reeling in horror now, face white and mouth open, but Even forced himself to suppress his own disgust at himself, and went for the final blow.

‘I’m the one you triggered into my first ever manic episode, completely humiliating myself only weeks into a new school, and now you arrive at the end of one of the worst weeks of my life and try to tell me it’s all my fucking fault.’

Isak’s face morphed from shock into pitiless disdain.

The two boys stayed sitting in silence, Even’s words hanging in the air between them.

Despite his deep hurt, Isak then shook his head and scoffed. ‘This is bullshit. This is utter gaslighting bullshit, Even. You’re trying to get me to leave.’

‘Fuck,’ he added with a humourless laugh, ‘you’re fucking _enjoying_ this self-loathing shit right now. You’re writing, starring, and directing the tragic scene in _Moulin Rouge_ where she tells him she’s not in love with him so that he leaves her. This is _bullshit!_ ’

Isak stood up, swiftly went to the hallway to pick up his rucksack, which he threw over his shoulder. Even followed, keeping a safe distance between them, oppressing his urge to take it all back at once, to wrap Isak in his arms and erase the last twenty minutes of this nightmare.

‘I’ve made up my fucking mind,’ Isak stated, tonelessly, as he put his shoes back on. ‘Have it your way. But I want to make one thing absolutely clear.’

Straightening to his full height, Isak levelled Even with a glance. ‘I’m not leaving because I believe your lies. I’m not leaving because of any single made-up thing you just tried to sell me. I’m leaving because I won’t be with someone who’s so hell-bent on being a self-indulgent coward.’

He turned then, and paused at the door, stopped, and turned to face Even one last time.

Gently, he muttered, ‘“Good luck with your fake fucking struggles, lonely Norwegian.”’

Isak left, slamming the door behind him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on Twitter @panshambles if you wanna come say hi. Otherwise--the next chapter might be another week or two. I added the tag 'Angst with a Happy Ending,' and I promise it will be. Happy Easter, everyone <3


	13. The second you start looking for hate, you find it.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even goes back to Nissen, and gets a lot more support than he thought. Featuring more counselling, a reunion with Mikael, reminders and absences, and hard talk from Sana.  
> TW: Ableist language, homophobic graffiti, MH issues and counselling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! The beginning of making amends. This is another chat-heavy chapter, as Even is still working through a lot of his internalised issues, and needs to focus on himself, first. Things keep getting better, though <3

‘What did I tell you on your first day, Even?’

‘No more incidents.’

It was overcast outside, making the day seem later and drearier than it was: the blinds were drawn in the principal, Fru Knausgård’s, office as Even sat in front of her desk--for the second time.

She had her hands knitted together on the desk as she faced him directly. There was a laptop and an A4 hardbound diary on her right and a jug of water with two glasses on her left. Like her, the office was stark and rotated around functionality. This is what Even focused on in his mind as he avoided all eye contact and slouched in the chair, wishing this conversation would be over already.

‘That’s correct,’ she continued, ‘And I have to say after hearing what happened last week, I am in a difficult position. The school board has kicked up a fuss about everything, and I know your parents have been contacted, too—’

Even rolled his eyes. He’d already heard the other half of _that_ debate from his dad yelling into the phone.

The school board had gotten wind of his streak through Oslo and tried to get him to drop out. His father, being in the police force and having close relationships with most of the Norwegian judiciary, had used every ounce of his influence to get the board to back down.

He knew he had to make more of an effort with his parents. All things considered, they had been nothing but supportive and encouraging of him since the diagnosis. Knowing what the problem was meant Even was no longer being indirectly blamed for it.

Still, all the while, Even had secretly hoped they’d force him to go to boarding school or something. Anything to escape this nightmare _again_.

‘Even?’

He glanced up at Fru Knausgård, and realised she’d said something as his mind drifted.

‘I’m sorry?’

‘I was saying that I spoke to the school board about it this morning.’ She sat back in her chair, keeping her eyes on Even, unblinking.

‘And?’ he asked. Her face gave no hint as to what was coming next.

_Are they finally kicking me out? Is this it?_

‘I informed them that discriminating against a student who has just been diagnosed with a mental health illness is tantamount to a crime. Specifically, it potentially violates the Anti-Discrimination and Accessibility Act of 2013. And I reminded them that they should count themselves lucky they are not being sued by your family for attempting to jeopardise your education on those grounds.’

Even was speechless. Fru Knausgård, however, gave him the faintest smile before she went on.

‘You seem surprised.’

‘I—I didn’t—’

The words were there in his mouth but he couldn’t get them out. He felt unravelled under her measured stare.

‘You didn’t expect us to support you?’ she asked, with no judgement in her voice.

‘No,’ he said quietly.

‘Because of our conversation at the start of the year.’

Even nodded.

Fru Knausgård smiled again. ‘I did give you a hard time, then. Because I felt you needed someone in your corner, pushing you, rather than assuming you weren’t capable of meeting the standard.’

It was not an unwelcome feeling for Even, then, to realise he was moved almost to tears at her admission. It wasn’t barely-there tolerance she’d shown him on the first day; it was tough love. Though at the time it had felt a lot like a hostile warning.

‘And I was proven right,’ she continued, ‘because your academic progress followed a pronounced and consistent improvement all the way until your incident last week. And I think now you have a proper diagnosis and prescription, you will be able to progress even further.’

‘What about the board?’ he asked.

Fru Knausgård rolled her eyes and waved a hand dismissively. ‘The board have been appropriately cowed by the threat of legal action, and a decisive scolding. They can’t dress this up as anything other than the ableism it is.’

Even felt a swell of pride and love for the principal. He’d braced himself for just such a decisive scolding from her instead of this show of support. He’d even expected a threat of suspension, or expulsion. Instead, here she was, telling the board to go fuck themselves.

He remembered with a twinge of regret that if she knew about him streaking through the city, she probably also knew about the nudes. He wanted to ask if anything was going to happen to Isak because of it. But if she didn’t know about the nudes, he’d be bringing him into this unnecessarily.

Interrupting his thoughts, she went on, ‘Now. Here comes the hard part.’

Even tried to ignore the cold sweat those few words provoked.

‘Because the school board are _looking_ for a good reason to suspend or expel you, you need to keep on top of your work the rest of this year. Not just keep on top of it, you need to _ace_ it. I’d even suggest doing some extra-curricular academic work to ensure you _exceed_ their expectations. Give them absolutely no room for doubt. It also wouldn’t do any harm for your application to …’ She rifled through his papers and consulted one. ‘…UiO? Media Studies?’

Even nodded.

‘So. As before, Even. No more absences or incidents. Though this time, I will not insist you cut out any form of a social life—you know yourself you have to be more responsible about drinking and partying from now on—I will reiterate our pledge. Show me what you can do when you have the support you need. Deal?’

She extended her right hand. Even mirrored it, and they shook on it.

‘Deal,’ he repeated.

\--

The surprising care he got from the principal, however, was still subject to the laws of the universe: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. And for Even that equal and opposite reaction was the unsurprising repudiation from Isak.

The day after their talk— _fight? break-up?_ —was Even's first day back at Nissen. He'd tried to call him on his way to see the principal, but it kept going straight to voicemail. He then tried finding him at school, but despite his best efforts to catch him at his locker, or in the yard, Isak was nowhere to be seen.

At home that night, he tried to find him online, only to discover Isak had blocked him on every social media platform sometime that day. He could see the profiles were still there, but he was no longer allowed to view them. Isak was still active, still around, still _available_ —it was just that Even no longer had the privilege of knowing him.

Even attempted to convince himself it was not malicious, that Isak was trying to protect himself, that if they worked things out, he could easily un-block him and start taking his calls. But Even remembered the set coldness on Isak’s face as he stormed out, and realised it was not that simple.

The more bitter truth was that Even regretted his decision to push Isak away. He missed him. It wasn't something he could properly verbalise--his hands felt empty without the possibility of Isak being in them. He replayed their night together over and over, focusing not on the sweat and sex, but on the endearments, the way Isak blushed when Even was affectionate, the way they treated each other with such tenderness. He hadn't meant to tell Isak about his mental health problems, but Isak responded with such acceptance--it was overwhelming. It made Even fall that much more.

What made things worse now was that Even couldn’t balance his choice to push Isak away against his intention to ‘protect’ Isak. It was complete bullshit. Isak was right. All his reasons were bullshit.

‘Let’s talk a little bit about your motivations, Even.’

Once more, Even’s reverie was interrupted. This time, it was Åse, and he was back in her office as usual on Saturday morning.

‘My motivations?’

‘What motivated you to push Isak away,’ she clarified.

‘I’ve already told you—’

‘You said you wanted to avoid hurting him because of your bipolar. But we both know that’s not quite true. And I think it would help you to truly understand your motivations.’

Even tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. Why was his whole life now a series of difficult conversations? One after the next. Would it ever end.

Åse waited for his answer.

At last, Even sighed. ‘I don’t feel like I deserve him.’

‘Mmhmm,’ Åse encouraged.

‘I wanted to push him away before he rejected me.’

‘And?’

‘Well…I guess I got my wish, didn’t I,’ he answered humourlessly.

‘And do you feel like it was the right choice?’

Even shook his head. _Of course it wasn’t the right choice. You don’t compulsively try to go back on a decision if it was the right choice._

‘Even?’ she prompted.

In his irritation, he didn’t think about his reply.

‘I don’t understand why I self-destruct like this. Why I hate myself so much,’ he blurted out.

A moment passed where Åse regarded him closely, put her pen down and slowly took her glasses off.

‘Let’s figure it out, then,’ she said, ‘together.’

\--

It was one of the most gruelling counselling sessions Even had ever had. Where Fru Knausgård eased off on him, Åse upped the ante.

She gave him as much homework as he already had from Nissen. Breaking down those neural pathways (as he _always_ seemed to be doing with Åse), addressing his self-image, adjusting his meds.

Two weeks passed where Even was only ever in his house doing homework, at school studying, or in Åse’s office. But he didn’t have his newly full schedule as an excuse for avoiding his other problems—like Mikael’s hurt, Isak’s rejection, or the rumours circling around Nissen about his incident. He saw reminders of his fuck-up everywhere.

\--

The first reminder came when Even, stirring in bed in the early morning winter sunshine, still half-asleep, reached out to seek Isak’s waist and hands, and found only the rest of his empty bed.

\--

The second reminder came in the form of graffiti on one of the bathroom stalls.

 

> _RING DISSE TALLENE HVIS DU VIL HA DIN KUK SUGD_
> 
> _ISAK VALTERSEN --_ _4xx xx xxx_
> 
> _EVEN BIPOLAR NÆSHEIM – 4xx xx xxx_

Even’s skin crawled. He had to go back to his maths class, but he wasn’t going to leave that scrawl there for everyone to see. He had nothing on him except his phone and his locker key. That would have to do.

He tried to scrape it off letter by letter, but it was no good, it was still clearly visible. Despite knowing he was going to get a reprimand once he got back to class twenty minutes later, Even decided he was not going to leave it there. He was already late anyhow. And he wanted to leave a note behind for the asshole who thought his note was funny.

 

>   _selv gale mennesker har standarder, drittsekk_
> 
> _-Even ‘Bipolar’ Næsheim_

\--

The next reminder was the Bakka groupchat, which came to life suddenly the following day, when Elias messaged everyone about the next vlog he wanted to record. Mikael was suspiciously quiet, until they asked if Even was coming and then immediately texted saying they missed him.

Even couldn’t handle the guilt anymore, and hopped on his bike at once.

It was raining, heavily, and bitterly cold. Even cursed himself for not putting on more layers. But part of him knew if he didn’t go _now_ it would be too long before he got the courage again.

\--

When he arrived at the door, to Mikael’s confused expression, he didn’t hesitate to pull them into a giant hug.

They resisted at first—probably because Even was sopping wet—and then melted into the embrace. Even didn’t know how long the two of them stood there, just hugging, but soon Mikael was leaning back and whispering, ‘Let’s go for a coffee, yeah?’

\--

They walked—suitably attired and with a golf umbrella—to Løkka and Mikael wordlessly led them to Tim Wendelboe’s. Even had to laugh a little once he realised where they were going.

‘Really?’

Mikael shrugged and held the door open.

They sat in the window stools and braced their coffee cups, trying to warm up from the storm.

After some small talk and hedging, Even finally dove straight into it.

Mikael mostly listened to Even’s explanation. They knew most of what had followed—the quasi-arrest, the diagnosis—so it was the rest Even had to fill them in on: namely, Isak.

‘I’m happy that…you were so happy with Isak,’ Mikael said once Even finished.

‘You are?’

Even was surprised by Mikael’s generosity; they had every right to be frustrated with him. Angry, even. Disappointed most of all.

The coffee was gone cold by this point; all that was left was the foamy dregs in each of their cups. Even swirled it mindlessly around and couldn’t get Isak’s face out of his mind. How badly he’d fucked everything up.

Then he realised how he was already going down a well-trod line of thought and remembered how Åse was training him to recognise the domino effect of his feelings before they consumed him.

He asked Mikael for a second to go to the bathroom.

\--

Once inside the stall, he sat on the closed toilet seat and held his head in his hands.

Reducing all his experience to just bodily sensations, he felt firstly his eyes watering, his skin crawling, his heart sinking, his knee shaking.

He breathed in, held it, then breathed out, in controlled movements. The thoughts were already starting to calm.

He noted too how his back was aching from sitting with such poor posture, and how his nailbeds were sore from being bitten. He needed to start wearing gloves, too, his skin was already dry and cracking from the cold.

He recognised how the weight of worry had lifted a bit from his shoulders just from those few minutes of mindfulness. Suddenly Åse’s neural pathway exercises felt a lot less ridiculous.

\--

Returning to the café, he sat next to Mikael again. They didn’t ask how he was doing, just gave him a small smile and he gestured for them to continue.

‘I mean it. I am happy for you,’ they said.

Even wanted to hug them again, but felt it might be a little too much at that moment. ‘That… that means a lot, Mik.’

Then he remembered. ‘Though it’s all past-tense now.’

Mikael sighed. ‘It doesn’t have to be.’

Even, despite remembering he should stop picking at his nails, started pulling at the broken cuticle on his right thumb. The hurt was grounding.

‘He’s blocked me on everything, Mik. He’s made his wishes pretty clear.’

‘Put yourself in his shoes for a minute. What would you do?’ they asked.

The question made Even pause. He’d never considered that.

Isak’s admission came flooding back.

 

> _Do you know what it was like to wake up on Saturday to your sister knocking down my door in terror because no one had any idea where you were?_
> 
> _I was so angry and confused but more than anything I was still_ _so fucking worried_ _for you._
> 
> _I spent three days in hell, Even, and the whole time, whenever someone told me you were crazy, or that you fucked me over, or this was all some big ruse to out me, I defended you._

 

Even knew, if that had been him, he would have done the exact same as Isak had. He would have wanted to hear it straight from the horse’s mouth, what happened?

Then he imagined what he would have done if he’d been faced with the barrage of excuses Even had conjured up.

 

> _You’re not really one to talk about dishonesty. You cheated on Emma with me._ _Seems like, you’re a bit confused about your sexuality, still. I’m the experiment, after all, right?_
> 
> _I’m the one you brought back home with you and begged to fuck you all night._
> 
> _I’m the one you triggered into my first ever manic episode._

 

Even now, weeks later, he cringed at his own selfishness.

But he pushed it aside to consider Mikael’s question. And he entirely doubted he would have had Isak’s insight. He knew he would have internalised it all, he would have accepted it. But Isak…Isak saw right through him. What would he do now?

They were utterly different people. And Even had deliberately hurt him.

‘I have no idea, Mik,’ he admitted at last. ‘I—I think he’ll want nothing to do with me until I stop thinking the way I do.’

Mikael pursed their lips and considered him. Then they smiled impishly.

‘Sounds like you know what to do then, man.’

\--

The next few weeks of November passed by uneventfully, with more homework, more counselling, and then more homework. (Even still hadn’t figured out what ‘extra-curricular academic activity’ to do, following the principal’s instructions, but he figured just getting on top of schoolwork was a bigger priority.) Meanwhile, Astrid and Sana seemed to take turns keeping Even’s weekends full—study sessions, coffee breaks, dinners, subjects avoided.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t have help—whatever he couldn’t manage, he had five highschool graduates to help him through. Now that the ice had been broken with Mikael, the Bakka groupchat was alive again, and Even managed to see the squad at least once a week to check in with them.

The hardest part was falling asleep at night. The days were full of classes, school homework, extra studying, an odd run here and there, counselling homework. But lying in bed, with nothing to distract him--his thoughts turned always to Isak. Who he hadn't seen since he ran out of the kollektiv.

Isak's apparent absence from school was alarming after the first few days of Even's return, but Sana--upon tolerating Even's insistent demands to know if Isak was alright--told him Isak hadn't dropped out, and she didn't know what Even was talking about. That, plus the insistent graffiti still appearing, and the rumours about Isak getting shitfaced at Foss or Handels parties on the weekend, told Even that Isak was still very much around. For some reason, he just didn't see him.

Then he realised Isak was likely avoiding him. So Even clung to the rumours, tried to casually find out what Isak was doing, if he was ok, if he was seeing anyone. It amounted to very little, except, one day in the locker room before gym, Even heard a rumour that felt a lot like fact.

He was eavesdropping on two guys talking about how Isak had never actually gotten back together with Emma—that he’d actually confronted her about starting the rumours that outed him to the whole school, and told her to ‘Get a fucking grip.’ It wasn’t until Even tagged him in the nudes that everyone knew for sure the rumours were true.

It might have all just been hearsay. But Even remembered that Isak had just said ‘one thing led to another’ right after the bonfire—right after he saw the text from Mikael that made him assume Even and Mikael were together. It made perfect sense why Isak would keep his guard up. And why he didn’t correct Even about ‘cheating’ on Emma.

Even still hadn’t seen Isak anywhere. It upset him more than he could say. All he had were the sketches of him in the green notebook, some saved photos on his phone that he mooned over in bed when he missed the warmth of Isak’s shoulders, the softness of his curls, the scratch of his stubble.

He missed him most in the mornings, though, because he knew what it was like to wake up to him. The ache of absence was overwhelming for a minute, until he whipped his phone out and tried to memorise Isak’s face to the back of his eyelids.

It didn’t help that he seemed to see Isak’s friends around _every_ corner. Jonas and Mahdi gave Even death glares in the hallways, while Magnus trailed behind and gave him sad half-smiles.

\--

Once, a few days before December, Magnus pretended to drop something and when he stood up—falling a few feet behind Jonas & Mahdi—he quickly stuck a note into Even’s hand.

_I know this sucks. But—my mum’s bipolar, so I’m here if you want to talk. My number’s below._

_I’m Isak’s friend, but, I’m yours, too._

\--

Just a week into December, Even was walking to Norwegian class when he saw him.

 _Isak_.

Standing at his locker, looking at his phone while absent-mindedly pushing some books in.

It had occurred to Even to leave some sketches in Isak’s locker, seeing as he couldn’t contact him any other way. But he chickened out every time. It felt too much like invading his privacy. Plus, what was there to say? ‘I’m sorry’ only went so far.

But seeing Isak for the first time in over a month—it knocked the breath out of Even’s lungs. His blood rushed to his face and his hands twitched to touch him. He was wrapped up in a green raincoat, maroon scarf, light grey snapback. His nose was buried in the scarf as he stared down at his phone, and began pulling out a notebook from his locker.

Even knew he was standing and staring at Isak for far too long to be socially acceptable, but he didn’t want to stop. Just the sight of Isak alone was bringing him back to life.

He unthinkingly began walking towards Isak, _needing_ to hear his voice, even if it was just to tell Even to fuck off. He missed hearing Isak telling him to fuck off.

But he hadn’t got halfway to the locker before Isak glanced up and spotted him. The look he fixed on Even stopped him moving any closer.

Isak was guarded. He was decided. And he gave Even the smallest shake of his head, with his lips in a thin line, before closing his locker quietly and walking away into the stairwell.

\--

Even lay awake in bed that night, at midnight, staring at the ceiling. He was lonely. He was miserable. He was desperate.

He threw the covers off, and picked up the phone, not even hesitating before dialling the number, in the slim hope it would work.

He missed him. He missed him so much still that it ached.

Of course he missed the intimacy—the kissing, the touching, the sex—but he mostly missed just _talking_ to Isak. Getting him to laugh. Getting him to blush. Getting him to listen. Getting him any way he could.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang.

\--

Even got a new phone case, one that was a close-up of Munch's 'The Scream,' because the last thing Isak said to him was from Munch, and he wanted the reminder. He wanted the reminder so he could do better.

Though he didn’t see the affirmation in Munch’s ‘nature screaming’ anymore, he still wanted the reminder.

And he wanted the reminder of where they had their first kiss.

\--

 _You know my picture, ‘The Scream’? I was stretched to the limit—nature was screaming in my blood … After that I gave up hope ever of being able to love again_.

He was twirling the phone over in his hands as he replayed Munch’s despondent assertion over and over in his mind, until the phone started to ring.

His instant hope that it was Isak died once he looked at the screen. But he wanted to answer Sana’s call, anyway.

‘Sanasol, hei,’ he said happily.

‘Even, we’ve been over this,’ she sighed, feigning annoyance in her own fond way. _Sometimes she is so like Isak._

‘I know,’ he said, ‘but I like having a nickname for you.’

She laughed at the other end of the line.

‘I’ll forgive you this one time.’

‘Oh?’ Even’s interest piqued. ‘Sounds like you want something, then.’

‘Damn. You’re good,’ she laughed.

‘What is it?’

‘It’s my birthday soon,’ she said, ‘and mama is having a big dinner at our house to celebrate, but we’re doing it early because of Christmas.’

‘And you’re inviting me?’ Even asked, delighted at the prospect of _chebakia_.

‘Yes, but—you’re not the only person I’m inviting,’ she began.

Even waited for her to continue, but heard only silence. Then in the silence, he heard the rest.

‘Oh,’ he said, quietly.

‘I still want you to be there. And I think, secretly, he would like to see you, too.’

‘I—I don’t know, Sana…’

‘Even, he doesn’t hate you like you think he does.’

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if he _did_ ,’ Even admits, ‘I fucking deserve it for how I treated him, and for inadvertently forcing him to deal with the fallout from _my problems_.’

There’s another silence punctuated by a heavy sigh from Sana.

‘You know,’ she says, with a smile in her voice, ‘I used to lecture Isak all the time about conflating ignorance and hate. But I’m going to tell you what he told me not too long ago: “The second you start looking for hate, you find it. And when you find it, you start hating.”’

Even had no response to that.

‘There’s something else you should know,’ she said, filling in the lack of Even’s reply.

‘Oh?’

‘When was the last time you spoke to Mikael?’

Even paused. He hadn’t really heard from them aside from the odd text on the groupchat.

‘I don’t know, a few weeks maybe?’

‘I figured. Elias said you’ve been really hard to get hold of with all the work you’re doing.’

‘What about Mikael?’ Even prompted.

‘It’s Mikael and Isak… well. I should start this at the start.

‘Elias and Mikael and the boys were in SYNG last week for a karaoke party, something Vilde was organising, and I was there with Chris and Eva and Noora… and Eva invited Jonas, who brought Isak and Mahdi and Magnus … oh, jeez. This is the awkward part to explain.’

Even’s head was spinning. ‘What are you—I don’t understand. What about Mikael and Isak?’

‘Don’t freak out,’ Sana said, ‘but … oh, I should just say it. Isak was drunk and he punched Mikael, and they punched him back, and they both ended up in the E.R. like idiots.’

Even jolted. ‘They _what_?’

‘It was all one big stupid misunderstanding. Isak has a terrible temper, too, and he was drunk, so he started yelling at Mikael, because he’s a huge fucking drama queen. And because Mikael is even worse, they pushed back and somehow accused Isak of abandoning you. And you know what he’s like when _that’s_ brought up…’

‘How did I not know about this?’

‘You’ve been inaccessible to everyone but your parents and your counsellor for the past month. And this isn’t something anyone wanted to spring on you – I just did, I know, but I figured, since I’m inviting you to this party where they’ll both be there, you should know this all in advance.’

‘This is such a mess,’ Even groaned into his hand. ‘And it’s my fucking fault.’

‘Before you get any more ideas,’ Sana continued, ‘I would like to reiterate that you are all complete morons. And you should be hearing this from Mikael, but they’re a big coward, too. So I’m here to clear up some ridiculous miscommunications before you all make me roll my eyes out of my head.’

‘Long story short,’ she said, ‘four hours stuck in an emergency room together was enough to get Isak and Mikael to talk to each other about the whole big mess. And now they’re…’

The blood drained from Even’s face.

_Oh god. Oh god, no. This can’t be happening._

‘They’re together all the time now,’ Sana explained. ‘They’ve been meeting up, both boy squads together. I guess they found common ground in their stubbornness and male angst.’

‘So. It’s Isak, then.’

There was a pregnant pause on the line.

‘Isak and Mikael?’ Even prompted. ‘Mikael and Isak.’

Another pause.

Then Sana burst out laughing.

‘You two are _perfect_ for each other, you know that? You’re both such drama queens. _No_ , Mikael is not dating Isak. They’re dating Mahdi.’

Even breathed out a huge sigh of relief but it was masked by another burst of laughter from Sana.

‘Honestly, Even. The main reason you don’t know any of this is because we’ve been waiting for you to reach out. And I know you’ve been busy, but you’ve made it a habit to push people away. And you need to start pulling them back. It’s your turn to make amends, now.’

And Even knew exactly where he needed to start. He thanked Sana profusely, hung up the phone, and went looking for Magnus’ note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of Norwegian used:
> 
> RING DISSE TALLENE HVIS DU VIL HA DIN KUK SUGD  
> -Ring these numbers if you want to have your dick sucked
> 
> selv gale mennesker har standarder, drittsekk  
> -Even crazy people have standards, asshole
> 
> \--
> 
> As always, please tell me if this made you feel anything, good or bad <3 And thank you for reading!


	14. It was the worst thing I could think.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even makes big steps towards reconciliation. Featuring a dream, Sana's birthday party, DMC with Magnus, a family Christmas, New Years' resolutions, and an epic Bygdøy walk-and-talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading through the angstiest parts of this fic!  
> Also you might have noticed the chapter count has gone down from 21 to 18--this is because I realised I was ending future chapters off at the wrong point, so dw it's not that I'm cutting any material!   
> It's gonna get a hell of a lot fluffier from here, I promise. <3

 

Isak reached out and held Even’s hands with his own, then brought them to his lips and kissed both of Even’s palms.

‘I saw you. I see you. I see you even when you’re not around. You’re always in my thoughts, in my dreams,’ he said, staring at Even’s fingers as he stroked along them.

‘I can’t say it back yet,’ he whispered, kissing Even’s fingers now, ‘Not yet. But that doesn’t mean I…it doesn’t mean you’re alone in this.’

 

Just as Even moved to reply, he was jolted awake by his alarm clock.

It took at least five seconds for him to realise he’d been dreaming. Or, rather, dreaming of his own memories.

He rolled over, silencing his blaring alarm, and looked out the window. It was pitch black. Now it was approaching the middle of winter, waking up at 6.30am was ever more difficult.

More difficult still when the weight of Isak’s absence was always tangible. Now it was over a month since that Saturday, the pain hurt a little less by distance alone. But Even knew if he wasn’t trying so hard to stay on top of schoolwork, he’d be inconsolable.

Which reminded him. He’d sent Magnus a message last night after his phone call with Sana, but fell asleep before he got any reply.

Quickly Even rolled back and picked his phone up, checking his notifications. Sure enough, at 1.30am he had a response from Magnus.

 _Hei Even!! Missed you buddy!!_  
_You’re going to Sana’s birthday party_  
_on Friday, right?_  
_I could catch up with you then?_

The prospect of trying to reach out to Magnus while Isak was there seemed…unlikely.

 _Sorry, man. I don’t know if_  
_I am going to make it. I_  
_don’t think Isak will want_  
_to see me._

 _Two things on that:_  
_1) Isakyaki is all bark & no bite_  
_but also_  
_2) He’s not gonna be at the party_

_But he and Sana are really close  
aren’t they? _

_Oh yeah, it’s not that._  
_He’s just visiting his mama_  
_on Friday and he usually doesn’t_  
_want to hang out with people_  
_afterwards._  
_It’s no big deal, it’s just his way._

Even couldn’t help but bring a hand to his heart. Isak was being so brave and reaching out to his mama. It wasn’t just that gesture alone that made Even’s heart clench—Gaustad was an intimidating place at the best of times. The fact that Isak was now apparently making regular visits there was a remarkable act of kindness—and it was no wonder he needed time after those visits to collect himself. Even only wished he could be there for him somehow.

_Alright, Mags. See you then._

\--

The chebakia, as usual, was delicious.

Sana’s birthday party was a warm, loud, affectionate affair. Everyone she knew was crowded into the Bakkoush house while upbeat Moroccan music played in the background (a playlist Elias spent two full days curating). Elias also used the party as a filming location, wandering between people with the camcorder—and Mikael, Yousef, and Adam—in tow. Mostly it was an excuse to chat up Sana’s friends.

When Even arrived, it was to just Mama and Papa Bakkoush, Sana, Elias, and the rest of the Bakka squad. He brought with him a bottle of elderflower pressé and an apple pie he’d baked himself (hence its lopsided charm).

Soon Eva and Noora arrived hand-in-hand, and Even finally got a chance to catch up with them properly. Eva blushed and twirled Noora’s fingers in hers as Noora explained how she’d been squatting at Eva’s place for weeks.

‘It’s been…cosy,’ she explained in summary. With noticeable tact.

‘What she means to say,’ Eva interrupted, ‘is that the small space is driving her crazy. But…’

Eva couldn’t help her wide, joyous grin. ‘You tell him,’ she encouraged Noora, with a small kiss to her cheek.

Rolling her eyes, Noora shrugged and smiled, too. ‘We’re gonna move in together. We’ve already got some viewings of apartments next week.’

‘Girls!,’ Even said, ‘that’s amazing! _Grattis_!’

He wrapped them both in a hug and tried to ignore the pinch of jealousy. ‘I mean it,’ he said again, ‘I really am happy for you.’ Suddenly he realised with painful clarity how Mikael must have felt.

Their hug was interrupted by Vilde’s entrance to the house, as she waved around a bottle of champagne—despite Sana’s reminders that they don’t drink—and tried to say ‘Eid Meelaad Sa'iid’ (‘Happy birthday’ in Arabic). Mama Bakkoush seemed endeared by her attempt.

In Vilde’s wake, came Magnus. As soon as he entered, Even lit up with gratitude. He’d been looking forward to hearing what Magnus had to say--but immediately after Magnus came Jonas and Mahdi, who both gave Even cold glances before moving on. Jonas made a beeline for Sana, where Mahdi instead cornered Mikael for a wet kiss.

The sight of Mikael pressed up against a man was startling—Even was taken aback at the twinge of jealousy, which wore off as quickly as it had appeared. He realised it wasn’t Mahdi he was jealous of, it was of both of them, being with the person they wanted. But more than any of that, he was pleased for Mikael, whose gaze he caught over Mahdi’s shoulder. He winked at them in clear encouragement, and Mikael nodded appreciatively.

\--

After introducing himself to Sana’s parents and thanking them for the invitation, Magnus walked straight to Even and clapped a hand across his shoulders.

‘Hey, man. Good to see you!’

Even turned and wrapped Magnus in a hug. He hadn’t meant to, but Magnus’s forgiveness was a little overwhelming. That, and he couldn’t help but get nostalgic about Isak when he saw Magnus.

‘Wow!’ Magnus said, returning the hug enthusiastically. ‘Don’t get me excited, I’m with Vilde now.’

Even huffed out a laugh against Magnus’s shoulder and patted him on the back. ‘I’ll try not to get her too jealous, then.’

When they pulled apart, Magnus’s eyes moved at once to Vilde—who was frowning in disapproval—and he shrugged comically before turning back to Even. ‘Looks like you failed.’

Magnus then led Even out to the garden, despite the bitter cold, and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

‘Here,’ he said, offering one, ‘I figured you could use one.’

Even accepted, and took the routine of lighting it as a mindful pause before they talked.

‘So,’ Magnus began.

He didn’t continue. Even waited.

‘Should we just, point out the elephant in the room?’

‘Yeah,’ Even said, ‘I guess we should.’

‘Me and Vilde!’ Magnus cried happily. ‘We hooked up!’

Magnus’s lightheartedness shocked a laugh out of Even, who smiled happily for him. ‘Amazing. I knew you had it in you.’

‘It all happened at Jonas’s birthday party last week. He had it super early, too, because his family is away for Christmas. And I just…I don’t know, man. I just realised, _fuck_ , you know, this isn’t gonna happen unless I do something. So I walked up to her, and I just—I just said, “I really want to have sex.” And she said, “You’re welcome to have sex with me.” And that was it.’

‘Communication,’ Even mused, ‘it’s a real skill.’

‘Seriously!’ Magnus said, ‘I can’t believe you can just ask for shit and then get it. Like, how does that happen? It sounds so stupid but it never occurred to me that in order to get something I kind of had to go about getting it myself? Incredible.’

‘And it’s going well?’

‘Oh, Even,’ Magnus whispered, ‘it’s _amazing_. I had my epiphany so I just went with it. I just keep telling Vilde what I’m thinking and what I want and she cannot get enough of it. I swear this is the secret to life, man. _Communicate_.’

‘This sounds suggestive in the extreme, Mags.’

‘You know how much I dreamt about Vilde as a dominatrix. So a few mornings ago I woke up with morning wood and when she was about to go down on me I told her what I’d dreamt about, and she listened, and gave me the best blowjob I’ve ever had. So good I forgot all about the dream. But that’s not even the best _part_!’

Even was laughing heartily, now, even though his nose was running with the cold.

‘What’s the best part?’

‘Last night she came over to mine and took out a full S&M leather outfit with studs and boots and everything. And a whip! Fuck. Even. It was just…god, it was…’ Magnus was overcome and words apparently ceased to express his feelings adequately.

‘Was it?’ Even smiled.

‘COMMUNICATION!’ Magnus yelled, happily. ‘Who fucking knew!’

Once they had both stopped giggling, Magnus studied Even’s face and pursed his lips, seemingly considering carefully what he was about to say.

‘I—I know the past few weeks have been rough as hell for you, man. And I’m glad you reached out,’ Magnus said, a notable sincerity in his voice.

‘Me too,’ Even said quietly.

‘How is it going?’

Even took a moment to consider Magnus’s question. His weekly counselling sessions meant a regular self-review, but it was different being asked by a friend.

‘It’s going much better,’ he said at last. ‘I’m running most mornings, I’m on top of my classes, I’m applying to uni, and I’m on the right dose of meds for once. I haven’t even had much side-effects from them. I’m much more structured—both in my life and in my head—and it’s making most things easier to deal with.’

‘Most things?’ Magnus prompted.

‘Yeah,’ Even replied. ‘Not everything.’

Divining Even’s deeper sadness, Magnus wrapped an arm around his shoulders, as he had earlier that evening.

‘He misses you, too. We all do.’

Even nodded, lost as to what he could adequately say in response.

‘I think…I think he’s waiting for you to be more yourself. I mean, like, more in control of yourself. More sure. You know? Does that make sense?’

Magnus was biting his lip nervously, seemingly worried of overstepping the line (for once).

‘It does,’ Even said, ‘and he’s right to keep clear of me til I am in control.’

‘Sounds like you’re there, man,’ Magnus replied. ‘For real. I think you should take a leaf out of my epiphany.’

Even couldn’t help the sharp guffaw that burst from him. ‘That sounds so wrong, Mags.’

Magnus raised both hands, with a big smile on his face. ‘Communication, man. It’s a skill.’

\--

Magnus’s words stuck with Even for weeks. He’d tried time and time again to think of ways to communicate with Isak but knew in his gut he needed a little longer to be ready. As much as it pained him to postpone it, knowing that at any moment Isak could forget him in favour of someone better, he had to stop thinking of other people being better than him in the first place, or there would be no chance for them.

So, he drove himself into schoolwork, and Åse’s neural pathway exercises, and kept working out, and forced himself to meditate and be mindful. After another week or two, it started to be less about getting Isak back, and more about getting himself back. Stupid as it sounded to him, he knew it was true, and he knew it was also the right thing to do.

\--

Christmas, though, was still less than merry. With just him and his parents, it was a small affair, and what with the trouble his manic episode had caused, as well as his increased counselling and new prescriptions, money had been a little tighter this year.

Nonetheless, his mama put all her heart into Christmas dinner and when Even sat down to the table with her and his papa, he gave them each a card he’d written the previous day.

‘What’s this, love?’ his mama asked.

‘I wanted to tell you both how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me. Not just in the last few weeks, but always. I know—I know I’ve not always been a good son—’

He tried to keep any emotion out of his voice, but the admittance of his failures always triggered the guilt that triggered tears, but he persevered, ‘And I’ve made things harder than they needed to be, but I’m trying to be better. And for once, I’m doing it for the right reasons. So—I, I wrote these cards to you because I felt… well, I wanted you to have them.’

In the cards he had outlined exactly how ashamed he’d felt, how much he wanted to do better, and how he loved his parents, despite their fallouts.

His mama opened hers first, while the three of them were eating their saffron buns with coffee. She started tearing up after the first line, and by the end she had jumped forward to hug Even awkwardly over the table.

‘I love you, my son,’ she whispered.

His papa was still reading when they sat back down, and seemed at first unresponsive. Until he closed the card on the table and reached forward with his right hand, curling it around Even’s wrist.

He cleared his throat and, still keeping his gaze fixed on the card, said, ‘We love you son. And we’re always proud of you.’

It was Even’s turn to be overwhelmed, then, as he propelled himself out of his chair and into his papa’s arms.

\--

New Years came with a heavy snowstorm, and Even spent it at Astrid’s house, playing with the kids. It was a relaxed, lazy way to start the new year—curled up on the sofa, watching the countdown and drinking non-alcoholic gløgg. He couldn’t help but think of Isak as 2017 rolled in, wishing with all his might he could start the new year with Isak in his arms.

Instead he held Astrid’s cat a little closer in bed that night and tried to soothe it as much as it soothed him.

\--

He returned to his parent’s house a week later, with a new list of resolutions.

  * Keep up my routine of exercise, meds, schoolwork, downtime
  * Try more ab workouts? Maybe I can get abs?? And biceps??
  * Talk to Isak.



The first two were relatively easy to keep. He liked working out in the winter—the freezing cold air was, granted, a bitter start to the morning, but by the end of his runs it was a welcome relief on his clammy, sweaty skin.

The third required more of a push.

Now that Even knew he was back on track, he started to formulate a plan for how to reach out to Isak. He wanted to post him a sketch, but realised he needed to give Isak some kind of indication that he was improved, and improving. Maybe just write out an entire confession? But that was probably too much. Just show up at the kollektiv with a boombox over his head? But that was definitely too much.

Eventually he settles on a short note.

 

 

> _Kjære Isak,_
> 
> _You were right. You were right about everything._
> 
> _You don’t owe me your time or your patience, but if you were willing to lend me either, I am ready to talk from now on. Indefinitely._
> 
> _Yours,_
> 
> _Even_

He didn’t want to post it, being too paranoid about it being lost. So he walked to the kollektiv late one night and pushed it through Isak’s letterbox himself. The decisive clang of the shutter acted as a gong announcing Even’s next step towards fixing everything. Or the death knell of his hopes.

\--

He woke up the next morning to a text. The short message made him clutch the phone to his chest for the rest of the day.

 

** Isak **

** 03,46 **

_I’m free on Monday._

_KB, 10,00._

_Let’s go for a walk._

\--

Whether or not Isak knew it, he’d chosen Blue Monday. Allegedly the most depressing day of the year.

But for Even, blue meant the colour of Isak’s favourite flannel, and Isak’s Nike workout shirt, and Isak’s Adidas jacket, and Isak’s beanie. Blue meant the pale sunrise in Isak’s kitchen the morning after Even got shitfaced off two beers and slept in the spare room. Blue meant the stripes on Isak’s bedsheets.

Blue was his second favourite colour after green (Isak’s gorgeous green eyes).

That Blue Monday began with the coldest night Oslo had seen that winter. The city was sharp with ice and snowdrifts, and Even wondered if Isak’s plan to go for a walk could stand up in such weather.

Still, he made his way to the KB on Skovveien, and waited, sitting on the stool behind the window for Isak to arrive. He couldn’t see anything through the window with the condensation from the heat on one side and intense cold on the other.

On the dot of 10,00, Isak walked in the door, his breath coming out in visible white puffs, and his cheeks pink with the cold as he burrowed his nose in his huge maroon scarf. He was wearing his blue beanie, too.

Even realised with a shock that the last time he was in this KB was with Isak. On that day. The last time they’d been there together, they’d ended up together.

He hoped that was why Isak chose it. He hoped it would portend a similar outcome.

As Isak walked towards him, Even panicked internally about what to do. Should he hug him? Kiss him on the cheek? Shake hands? Nothing seemed appropriate and he wished for any sign from Isak about what he’d accept.

Instead Isak stood a foot away from him, and nodded briefly. ‘Hei.’

Even didn’t have to think about smiling. It just happened naturally when he looked at Isak. ‘Hei.’

‘I’m gonna get a coffee,’ Isak said, ‘do you want anything?’

Even shook his head and gestured to the empty cup beside him. ‘I’m good.’

Once Isak got his cup to go, he looked back at Even for a second and then gestured to the door.

\--

They had only gotten three steps from KB when Isak said decisively, ‘Look. We’ve both had time to think about everything. You wanted to talk and explain some things so I’m willing to listen. But don’t think I’m not still extremely angry and frustrated with you. We’re gonna walk down the Bygdøy peninsula, and then come right back here. It should take two hours. That’s as long as I’m allowing for this today.’

Even nodded his assent and curled his hands into fists inside his pockets.

Then, with impatience, Isak demanded, ‘Ok, talk.’

Even didn’t know where to begin. He didn’t know how to apologise for everything. He’d prepared a speech of various reasons and excuses and explanations but in the face of Isak’s carefully constructed detachment, he realised he couldn’t rely on pre-constructed words. So, he took a deep breath and began with the first thing that came into his head.

‘You were right. About everything.’

Isak didn’t respond. Except for the tell-tale movement of his clenched jaw, Even would have believed it didn’t affect him at all.

‘I know I wrote that in the note, but … you were just…absolutely right. And I knew it at the time. And I can’t blame how I reacted to it on my bipolar, because I was perfectly lucid, I was completely aware of what I was doing. It was intentional. And I fucked it all up, intentionally.’

Isak softened a bit at that, but kept his eyes trained ahead.

‘What else?’ he said at last.

‘I would in another universe say that I did it for your sake, but you were right about my real motivations, too. I was a coward. And in another universe, I’d point out that that fact is enough to—somewhat ironically—support my point. That you shouldn’t be with me.’

Isak turned to Even at that and scowled, ‘And what qualifies you to tell me what I should or should not do.’

It wasn’t a question. It was a reminder.

\--

Despite it being early January in the Oslo fjord, the sun was bright, almost blinding, as the two boys walked among the marram grass and sand dunes. It was cold, bitterly cold, as they ambled along the beach, each wrapped in fifteen layers and still shivering slightly.

Isak had veered the conversation away from the most pressing issue in favour of asking Even how he was doing with schoolwork, with counselling, with the diagnosis. Even jumped at the chance of proving how much he was improving. Isak in turn hinted at how he’d thrown himself into schoolwork, and wound down on the weekend in drinking too much at Handels and Foss parties. ( _Huh, some rumours really are true_ , Even thought). Even didn’t push about the increased drinking—they were teenagers. Not everything was about him. He also didn’t ask about Isak’s mama. He felt like he needed Isak’s trust back before he had the right to ask about that.

But they’d reached Bygdøy beach now. And it had been quite some time since either of them had spoken.

Even couldn’t stand the silence any longer, he needed to bite the bullet.

‘I was completely out of line. I told myself it was all for the best. That you would thank me eventually for letting you dodge a bullet. But, you saw right through it. You saw right through me.’

Isak didn’t respond. Even realised he was rapidly running out of things to say. What more could he add to, _You were right. I was wrong. Please forgive me?_ There was nothing else to explain.

Isak sensed Even’s repetition and offered no help. The two kept walking.

‘What else?’ Isak asked eventually.

‘Everything I accused you of…with Emma… I know I was out of line, and also completely wrong. I should never have posted those photos, let alone tagged you in them. I wasn’t thinking. But I…I heard about you confronting the rumours. I…Fuck, Isak. I was so proud of you for coming out and owning it.’

Isak waved a hand, ‘Don’t flatter me. It’s cheap.’

‘Everything I said about—about you being confused, about me being the experiment, that … the way I rewrote everything between us as if you had been the one pursuing me. You know already, that was all complete shit.’

No response. They kept walking.

Even knew he was leaving the hardest truth til last. It was the hardest to spit out, the one that made him resent himself the most. Isak knew it was coming, too. They both kept walking forcefully, turning carefully back the way they came.

‘What else?’ Isak bit out at last, unable to keep a waver of emotion out of his voice.

Even closed his eyes and tried to compose himself.

This was it. This was the final admission. There was no going back now. And he had to power through it, for Isak.

Finally, he said, with the utmost courage he could muster, ‘You didn’t trigger anything. It wasn’t your fault.’

Even felt the last shred of resolve crumble within him. He knew he wouldn’t leave this conversation whole.

Isak made a desperate sound, something akin to a choked whimper, and finally his face betrayed how hurt he was. He stopped in his tracks, and curled in on himself, shaking.

Even didn’t know if he could touch him, if he should ask him how he was; it felt so inadequate, so he kept rambling, hoping his words could soften the blow.

‘That—that was my checkmate move. I—I was desperate to hurt you so you would leave. I’m so sorry. It was the worst thing I could accuse you of. It was the worst thing I could think.’

Isak fell to his knees, then, right on Bygdøy beach, gloved hands still firmly lodged in his thick windbreaker pockets. He sobbed loudly and unreservedly.

Even knelt next to him and tried to look him in the eye. ‘Isak—Isak, I’m…I’m so fucking sorry.’

Isak shrugged off Even’s tentative hand and turned away from him. ‘Don’t … touch me. Just, don’t touch me.’

Even stood back up and looked away, knowing this was when Isak made his decision. After what seemed like an interminable pause, Even heard Isak get back on his feet and resume walking, straight past Even, with a brusque, ‘Come on. We have an hour to walk home.’

\--

Forty minutes later, and Isak still hadn’t spoken a word, hadn’t looked to Even to say anything, either. Even’s mind was racing with questions, broken starts and pointless icebreakers. _So I heard you punched Mikael and now you’re kind of friends? And Mahdi is dating them? Do you hate me? Is this irreconcilable? Is it too late now? Am I too late? Am I too late?_

Isak remained silent the entire walk back to KB, and kept walking past it. Even didn’t know where they were going until he recognised that Isak was simply following his normal route home.

They walked wordlessly all the way to Deichmans gate, where Isak paused at the door, turning to look at Even for the first time since they left the beach.

‘I forgive you. Or, well, at least, I’ve nearly forgiven you. I’m not sure you’re supposed to feel this betrayed still when you’ve forgiven someone. Anyway. Once I don’t feel that, I’ll mean it when I say that I forgive you,’ he said, his voice devoid of any tone that might signal to Even what he really felt.

A weighted moment passed between them as Even tried to think of something, anything to say.

‘You know I punched Mikael?’ Isak suddenly asked.

Still reeling from Isak’s compassion, Even nodded dumbly.

‘You know why?’

Even shook his head. ‘I mean, Sana implied it was because you…were jealous that Mikael and I had been hooking up. But I… I don’t know. I wasn’t sure that was the whole reason.’

Isak scoffed and looked at his feet. ‘For the first time in a while, you’re right about something.’

Even waited for Isak to elaborate.

‘It’s stupid,’ Isak said at last, looking back up at Even, ‘it’s really stupid, because it wasn’t just that I was jealous. And it’s not just because you trusted them to like you even with your bipolar, though you didn’t trust me.’

Even waited for Isak to elaborate. In the drawn-out pause he tried to thinking of the real reason Isak punched Mikael but came up with nothing.

Then, Isak said, ‘They guessed your fucking Instagram password. I mean, seriously? They _guessed_ it. Out of the millions and billions of possibilities, they knew you enough, they knew you _well_ enough, that they could guess the only possibility. Out of _billions_.’

Isak sighed and bit his lip. ‘A bond like that, it’s not something I can compete with. It’s not something anyone can compete with. Mikael’s known you for years. I only had you for a day, and it ended with you having a full-blown manic episode and then fucking me up worse than I’ve ever been fucked up before. I only got a day, Even. _One fucking day_ of being with you. Mikael’s had countless days. And you don’t seem to get how intimidating that is.’

Even had to wring his hands together to stop them from reaching out to Isak.

‘It didn’t help that you kept telling me nothing was happening,’ Isak continued, ‘From my perspective, it looked like you and Mikael were just fucking inevitable. Like I was a brief consideration, a short-lived fantasy you could indulge in before you ended up back with your soulmate. Punching Mikael, I’ll admit, was incredibly satisfying. But I hadn’t considered the fact that they could punch back. And yeah, being trapped in the hospital with them was actually my living hell.’

Isak was fiddling with his housekeys compulsively now, and Even was so close to begging him to let him touch.

‘But then they started talking about how much they resented me,’ Isak went on. ‘And at first I figured it was because they saw everything the way I did—that I was the sidepiece, distracting you from the person you should’ve been with. But then the more they explained, the more I realised, that’s how they saw themselves. They told me how they’d been the one to pursue you, always, that they’d asked you to make out with them at that party, and that…that you’d refused all their other advances. It made me look back on everything, and reassess.’

Isak scraped the snow off his boot absent-mindedly. ‘It also, weirdly, made me kind of like Mikael,’ he added with a huff.

There was a pregnant pause before Isak cleared his throat again.

‘Ok. It’s been two hours. We’ve talked about everything. Is there anything else you haven’t said that you want to say?’

Even thinks rapidly. _I’m sorry. I love you. I miss you. I’m so fucking sorry. I love you. I love you. I love you._

Knowing none of those would be welcome, Even shook his head.

Isak kept eye contact a second too long, and then took out his keys. ‘Ok. I need to go warm up. I’ll see you in school.’

And with that, Isak disappeared behind the blue door.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Norwegian used:
> 
> Grattis -- Congrats
> 
> \---
> 
>  
> 
> As always, kudos & comments are hugely appreciated <3 Tell me if this made you feel anything, good or bad!


	15. I thought I’d do you a favour.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even's school term gets off to a great start: featuring a workout with the Bakka boys, a gym selfie, facial hair, a forward question from Vilde, vicious rumours from Emma, Isak's kindness, a new project, Isak's flirting, Isak, Isak, Isak.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three updates in as many days! I may be busy for a while again though, hence my speed at putting up chapters right now. >  
> <3 Thanks as always for reading.
> 
> \--
> 
> CW: Hate speech, ableist language

 

It’s a Sunday morning, almost a week since the talk on Bygdøy, and Even had finally gotten the nerve to join the Bakka squad for one of their gym sessions.

Everyone was there: Elias on the bench press, spotted by Yousef, Adam was running on a treadmill, Mutta was lifting weights, and—

‘Where’s Mikael?’ Even asked as soon as he realised he couldn’t spot their mop of brown hair.

‘Lillehammer,’ Elias puffed out, as Yousef helped him lift the barbell back onto the stand.

‘Why are they in--?’

‘Jonas has a cabin up there, and he’s invited along the rest of the boys,’ offered Yousef.

Even raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘And Mahdi’s brought Mikael? Like—they’re already at that point?’

‘Well,’ Elias chuckled, still panting on the flat bench. ‘Jonas was really pissed at first. He wanted a boys’ weekend but Magnus had already invited Vilde. So Mahdi insisted he bring Mikael, too. And Isak’s there too, of course.’

‘Oh,’ Even said, quietly. He had no right to feel jealous that they had unfettered access to Isak.

And yet, he was. Deeply, deeply jealous. He wondered for a second if he’d simply had that talk with Isak earlier if he too could spend a whole weekend away in a snowy mountain cabin. It would have been the perfect romantic spot to… well, to see if they still had a chance.

‘Dude,’ Adam interrupted from the treadmill, smiling at Even in the mirror. ‘You are so gone for him, it’s ridiculous.’

Even blushed and raised his arms. ‘Yeah. Well. So.’

‘Whoa,’ Adam said again, jogging through his cooldown. ‘Do that again.’

Even looked at him in confusion. ‘Do what?’

‘Raise your arms. Like, bend your elbows and lift.’

Even did as instructed, wondering what Adam was getting at. Then all four boys wolf-whistled.

‘Damn!’ Mutta said, grinning at him with a ten-pound weight in each hand. ‘You’ve been working out before this.’

Elias stood up from the bench press and went to stand next to Even in the mirror, checking his newly formed biceps. ‘Yeah, man,’ he said approvingly, ‘Well done. You’re almost a beginner.’

Even rolled his eyes, but not before Elias snapped a photo of the two of them and posted it to Instagram with an obnoxious number of hashtags.

‘Whoa!’ Even cried, ‘I look like such a dick in this, flexing my arms.’

‘That’s the point, Even,’ Elias explained slowly. ‘You’re flexing. The girls love it. Hey, probably Isak, too,’ he added with a smirk.

Adam by that point was finished running and walked over to examine the photo on Elias’ phone. Then he glanced back to Even and without warning hiked up his shirt and inspected his chest. Even protested, but Adam ignored him. ‘You’ve been working on your core, too. Nice. Couple more weeks and you’ll finally have caught up to where Yousef was a year ago.’

A high note of protest came from Yousef at that, but the boys shouted him down.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Mutta said, ‘argue all you want. We all know why you’ve been putting more hours in the gym.’

Elias made a gagging sound while Mutta and Adam poked Yousef’s sides. ‘Sana!’ Mutta cried, attempting an impersonation of Yousef, ‘Sana! I love you so much! Sana!’

Even looked on and laughed at the sight of them all together. He was so happy for Yousef finally getting the girl, and even through Elias’ objections, it was clear he was secretly delighted, too.

‘Sana!,’ Adam picked up, ‘Let’s elope! We can stay in Morocco and get married and never have to face the ridicule I’ll get at home!’

A little part of Even twinged at that; he hadn’t spoken to either Yousef or Sana about their trip to Casablanca. It was still an embarrassing reminder of being out of control.

Yousef picked up on Even’s slight discomfort and waved Adam and Mutta off. ‘Even,’ he said quietly. ‘They didn’t mean it badly.’

At that, Adam and Mutta finally caught up and looked to Even. ‘ _Faen_ , we didn’t—'

Even smiled at them—they really were his best friends. ‘I know, gutta,’ he said, happily. ‘I’m just amazed still that Yousef finally got his shit together.’

Elias, Adam and Mutta bonded in a chorus of _ooh damn_ , and _ouch!_ before laughing and all piling on top of Yousef, who squirmed and shouted unheeded protests from the ground. Even smiled and wasn’t long in jumping on top of them all, to a cacophony of shrieks and flailing.

‘Get off! Off, off off!’ Yousef finally yelled.

When they were all back on their feet, Elias took out his phone and smirked to himself. ‘Hey Even,’ he said, holding his phone out. ‘Look who likes you.’

Even frowned at him and then glanced down at the screen. Sure enough, there was the notification from Instagram.

 _isakyaki liked your post_.

As the rest of the guys saw the message, Mutta turned to Even and put a hand on his shoulder. ‘You talked to him since?’

‘No,’ Even said. ‘Not since our walk on Bygdøy. But I figured it’s only a week til we’re all back in school, so I didn’t push.’

‘You think you’re just gonna be friends, or…?’ Yousef asked.

‘I’m hoping for “or…”’ Even laughed. ‘But honestly I’ll take whatever he gives me. I think we could make it work. So long as I remember to communicate.’ He smiled again, thinking of Magnus.

‘But,’ Even continued, ‘he has occasionally liked a post of mine on social media, which means I’m not blocked anymore. I know it’s an arbitrary marker of friendship, but… it means a lot right now.’

The boys didn’t even mock him for that. Until Magnus also wrote a comment on Elias’s photo:

_reggismeggis commented: herregud Even is that facial hair?!?_

Elias then glanced back at Even. ‘Yeah, man, is this an accident or are you trying to look homeless?’

Even rolled his eyes. ‘I’m growing it out. Or, at least, seeing if I can.’

Mutta clapped him on the back. ‘I like it. I think you can pull it off.’

‘We’ll see what Isak thinks,’ Adam whistled, before lying out on the bench press.

\--

The first day back to school in January, Even felt a strong sense of déjà vu. He was back on the 21 bus from Københavngata, squeezing his bouncy ball in his left hand, listening to Nas’ ‘The Message.’

He thought of it like a good luck charm, playing this ‘first day’ out again. The last time, it led him directly to Isak.

This time, he didn’t need a preparatory coffee from KB. He walked straight to Nissen, looking up at the classical red brick corners and arched windows. From there he went to the schoolyard and spotted Eva, Noora, Vilde, Sana and Chris.

He’d really missed hanging out with the girls. Since his episode, and the intensive weeks of work following it, their lunchtime meet ups stopped. He hoped he could fix that this term.

As he approached them, Sana was the first to see him, and he immediately leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. Chris gave him a big hug while Eva and Noora shared private kisses. Vilde was on the phone to Magnus and gave Even a happy wave as he joined them.

‘How is everyone?’ Even asked.

Vilde got off the phone—after some cringeworthy kissing noises into the receiver—and smiled at Even. ‘Really good! I spent last weekend in Lillehammer and it was so beautiful.’

‘I heard,’ Even said, ‘At Jonas’ cabin, right?’

‘Yeah!’ she cried, ‘it was amazing. Magnus and I are at a really great place in our relationship right now. But we were thinking about trying anal—oh! Even!’

Even already sensed where this was going and braced himself.

‘You’ve done anal, right?’ she asked.

‘ _Herregud_ , Vilde!’ Noora cried, at the same time as Sana putting her head in her hand.

Eva and Chris burst into giggles. ‘Vilde,’ Chris said at last, ‘that’s … a little personal, no?’

‘What’s wrong?’ Vilde said, confused at the others’ apparent offence.

‘You and Magnus are so well suited,’ Sana said drily.

Vilde didn’t pick up on Sana’s sarcasm and looked back to Even. ‘It’s true, _ikke sant_?’

Even closed his eyes and laughed quietly. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘It’s true.’

‘I wouldn’t have asked except for all those nudes you posted of Isak—’

‘Vilde,’ Sana cut in, angrily.

The group fell silent.

‘I … I didn’t mean to offend,’ Vilde said, meekly.

‘I know,’ Even smiled, ‘And I’m not offended. Sana’s just my guardian angel.’

Sana rolled her eyes. ‘We’re barely friends.’

He laughed and drew her into a hug. ‘We’re buds, Sana, deal with it.’

‘The point is!’ Vilde shrieked, ‘Magnus and I have been thinking of trying it and I know Even has experience with it and I didn’t think it would be bad to _ask_. Besides…’

She trailed off, until she found the courage again. ‘I heard the nudes were hot, so.’

Eva and Chris burst out laughing again while Sana and Noora shared A Look.

‘Thanks Vilde,’ Even said, ‘but just so you know they weren’t of Isak. They were my own.’

Her eyes widened and suddenly speech failed her. Eva and Chris were practically in hysterics.

‘I was manic,’ he explained further, trying not to giggle along with Eva and Chris.

‘You’re … you’re bipolar?’ Vilde asked seriously. Sana fixed her with another warning glance.

‘It’s just,’ Vilde hurried on, ‘so is Magnus’ mama. I—I just… I don’t know much about it, but I know enough form him to say that… you’re incredibly brave, Even.’

He didn’t feel particular brave, but he appreciated the sentiment nonetheless, and brought Vilde into an embrace. While he hugged her he whispered, ‘Also, if you’re doing anal, just remember you can’t overdo it on prep time or on lube. That’s it.’

When they both leaned back, Vilde gave him an appreciative smile.

\--

On his way to his first class, chemistry, Even passed by Emma and a group of her first year friends at their lockers. They were talking loudly, and after a few seconds he realised they were talking about him. What was more surprising was they didn’t stop when they saw him coming.

‘You know what Tove said?’ a small blonde stage-whispered to Emma. ‘That he tried to kill himself last year at some kid’s house in Disen? No wonder he went nuts and took those photos of Isak. What a freak.’

Even blanched and tried to remember Sana’s words. _If you look for hate, you’ll find it_. He reminded himself of Åse’s exercises, of the Bakka squad coming to visit him when he was down, of Astrid’s endless support, of anything that would keep him from shouting or crying right there in the hallway.

‘No wonder Isak left him,’ Emma added, ‘he can do so much better.’

Even fought the instinct to agree with her, and kept his head bowed as he continued walking, trying to get away from her as quickly as he could.

He was glad to find that as much as her words hurt, they didn’t make him think less of himself. They were rubbing salt in some still-healing wounds, but he had the strength to know in his bones she was wrong.

At that moment, Even suddenly felt a hand gently slide into his own, interlacing their fingers together. Then a voice next to him loudly said, ‘Emma, you’re doing yourself no favours. Now would you just fucking move on already?’

Even snapped his head up and couldn’t comprehend how Isak was walking next to him and holding his hand, defending him against the gossip.

‘What are you doing?’

Isak shrugged, still holding his hand. ‘It was worth it to see her face.’

Even looked down at their joined hands and opened his mouth to say something, anything. But nothing came, so he closed it again. He missed touching Isak. He didn’t want it to stop.

Isak followed his gaze and abruptly unclasped their hands. ‘Well…I did say I forgave you. Almost,’ he said, awkwardly putting both hands in his back pockets. ‘So, I thought I’d do you a favour. Plus, like I said, it was worth it to see her face.’

Even nodded dumbly. He opened his mouth to speak and the first thing his brain-mouth managed to garble out was, ‘You don’t care about what Emma said?’

‘Nope,’ Isak said, ‘but you should prepare yourself for the new round of gossip.’

Even frowned and looked at him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘That we’re boyfriends,’ Isak said, nonchalantly. ‘Everyone still thinks the nudes are of me, and you add that to the fact that half the school just saw us hold hands—it won’t take much for the rumour mill to churn out the next batch of assumptions.’

‘I told Vilde,’ Even blurted out, ‘that the pictures are mine, that they’re of me. Nothing to do with you. She’ll probably spread it around quickly, so…’

Isak shrugged again. _How can he be so damn casual and collected,_ Even thought. _I’m barely standing upright_.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ he said at last.

Then Isak leaned in and whispered so only Even could hear, ‘Except we both know, if they actually were mine, people would be fucking _awestruck_.’

Even gaped at him, before they both started laughing. For a second it felt like he had him back. And he didn’t understand how this conversation was happening but he knew had to prolong it as much as possible.

‘How have you been?’ Even asked. He didn’t mean to sound so longing, but it was kind of inevitable.

‘Good,’ Isak said, ‘I, uh, I was actually looking for you just now.’

‘Oh?’

Even’s heart leapt in his chest. _Is he gonna invite me out for coffee? Another walk? A date?_ Even would take anything Isak offered. He’d never felt more submissive in his life.

Then, a surprising coil in his gut told him he was really into it.

Shaking that thought quickly away, he focused again on Isak.

‘Mikael came with us to Lillehammer on the weekend and they said you needed some extracurricular stuff on your CV? Something Fru Knausgård told you to do?’

Despite the disappointment he felt, Even wondered where Isak was going with this. ‘Yeah, it’s partly to get the board off our backs and partly for my UiO application.’

‘I have an idea,’ Isak offered. ‘I wouldn’t mind having something like that on my CV too, and I think if we co-ordinated a project, it would halve our workload.’

Even had started saying ‘Yes’ before Isak could even finish his sentence.

‘Ok!’ Isak laughed.

‘What did you have in mind?’ Even asked.

The blush Even had missed so dearly came back on Isak’s cheeks. How he was meant to survive this new school-friends-who-work-together setup he had no idea.

‘It’s…well, it’s not—I thought if we did a kind of interactive website as an introduction to astronomy it could be something ‘educational’ to keep the school happy, but also something we could have fun with, you know? I would write the sections on the scientific theories behind parallel universes or asteroids or supernovas—in like, straightforward language—and you would bring the art and poetry and pop culture references to make the science more palatable. Does that make sense?’

Isak was rambling, and Even was beaming, and the stars were aligning in every way.

‘We don’t have to do it,’ Isak went on, ‘it was just an idea I had. I think if we made it funny and stupid as well as informative it could be something actually good, you know?’

‘Isak,’ Even interrupted. ‘I think that’s a _fantastic_ idea.’

A two-dimple smile lit up Isak’s face and Even’s chest felt tight with happiness.

‘Cool,’ Isak said, ‘we could work on it, say, once a week? I know you’re still studying a lot extra so…’

‘Yeah, how about Saturday afternoons?’

Isak nodded. ‘Done. Noon then? Or would you like more time after seeing Åse?’

 _Of course he remembered_.

That was the hardest point in the conversation not to kiss Isak. Just plant a kiss on his lips right there in the middle of the school.

‘No, no, that’s—that’s fine,’ Even managed to say.

There was a pause while Even wondered how to ask Isak what this meant—or if it meant anything—in which Isak suddenly said with a laugh, ‘You know, it’s kind of a good thing Emma was running her mouth. I almost didn’t recognise you.’

At seeing Even’s confused look, Isak added, ‘Because of this,’ reaching his hand out to touch Even’s cheek (which was starting to present a real beard).

When Isak’s fingers caressed Even’s cheek, though, then moved down to his jaw, he had to clench his teeth together in restraint against the impulse to simply lean forward and wrap himself in Isak—whose face was slack now, his eyes focused entirely on Even.

His touch was so welcome, so _missed_ , that Even almost couldn’t believe it wasn’t another dream.

They were standing together so closely, Even could smell Isak’s cologne—that cardamom cinnamon something—and feel the warmth of his breath, which came a little faster now.

Isak, however, recollected himself, and took his hand away.

‘It looks really good,’ he said. ‘ _You_ look really good … Though, not quite as good as that gym selfie.’

At that he leaned back, winked—actually _winked_ —at Even, then turned away and walked down the corridor to class, leaving a breathless Even in his wake.

\--

Life took on a welcome routine over the next few weeks. The new meds were working much better, and he felt more in control than he had in years. The Bakka squad and the Nissen crowds intermingled and Even’s life felt like it was finally on track. His grades were steady, he was taking care of his sleep schedule, and seeing Isak every week.

The only aberrance was Isak. Isak who he now saw every Saturday afternoon in that KB on Skovveien to work on their astronomy website project.

At their first meeting for it, Even brought far too much material. Heaps of paintings of astronomical events—Giotto di Bondone’s fresco  _Adoration of the Magi_ _,_ _Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry_  by the Limburg brothers, _The Battle of Issus_ , by Albrecht Altdorfer—a whole book on the meeting of Albert Einstein and Rabindranath Tagore in 1930, the entire box sets of Star Trek, Star Wars and Firefly, as well as countless articles, internet memes, and poems. Isak looked them over enthusiastically, and commended Even for getting so much good stuff together.

But Isak approached the project with much more preparation and structure, and they spent that first meeting not on content but on a strict planner of what they would write and when, separated into themes, and then they both co-ordinated on the organisation of the website.

They agreed to spend the next three months on it, meeting every Saturday for two to three hours to put together a post on the chosen theme for that week. That would give them about 12 high-quality posts, amongst which they would post other silly content to cleanse the palate.

Even was thrilled at the prospect of a standing appointment with Isak. Though Isak didn’t know it yet, there was one viral internet thing Even would keep from the project. He’d known about the Starry Night site for a while now—the service that printed out a picture of the night sky on a special night of your choice—and dated it with your coordinates so you could mark an important event in your life.

Even had already bought the print for the night of their first kiss.

He’d remembered seeing the Pegasus and Cassiopeia constellations from the graveyard, and it was affirming to see them again on the print. He blew up the picture he’d gotten from the website into a huge A1 image. He stuck it to the ceiling above his bed. It was the only night sky he ever wanted to see before he fell asleep each night.

\--

The weekly meetings with Isak soon became a problem.

It wasn’t the work—the work they glided through easily, between Isak’s enthusiasm for astronomy and Even’s enthusiasm for anything Isak did.

It was that Even couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. He noticed how Isak’s arms seemed to be filling out. He was clearly going to the gym more often, if the way his pecs now strained at his tshirts were anything to go by.

Isak, too, seemed to stare at Even more—specifically his beard. And his hands.

More than once they caught each other looking and had to cough loudly and return to their project for distraction.

The other part of the problem was that Isak kept flirting, like nothing had happened. Like everything between Even’s hypomania and their long walk to the beach never occurred. Except for the sex. The sex he alluded to frequently. Just enough to be suggestive, never enough to sound like a suggestion for another try.

 

 

> _‘Is that a telescope in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?’_
> 
> _‘Ok today’s theme is black holes.’_
> 
> _‘I think I know where this is going,’ Even said with an eyeroll._
> 
> _‘What? Nothing funny about a black hole. It’s a region of space with a gravitational field so intense that matter can’t escape.’_
> 
> _Even waited for the grin to appear. Which—sure enough—it did. Along with Isak’s sly remark, ‘Sounds kinky.’_
> 
> _‘Newton’s first law of motion states that everything will remain at rest unless compelled to change by an external force … Kind of like a cock.’_

 

Though they flirted and made each other blush, there was a clear line. They never went to each other’s place, they only met in neutral spaces, like school, or KB. Though—Even hoped—maybe KB wasn’t such a neutral space for them.

\--

One day, in the cafeteria, while Even was sketching in his notebook—(the girls were on a school trip)—Isak arrived and sat down next to him, with Jonas, Magnus and Mahdi following.

Even tried not to seem as surprised as he was. It was the first time they’d all hung out in months. But they spent a chill half hour together, while Jonas made fun of Mahdi for being so whipped with Mikael (who chose that moment to send him nudes, making Mahdi suspiciously keen to go to the bathroom), and Isak ribbed Magnus for being so enamoured with Vilde.

‘Did I tell you?’ Magnus said excitedly, ‘she wants to try gagged-and-bound sex.’

Even smiled at Magnus’ enthusiasm and expected another dry retort from Isak, but when he looked over at him, saw that Isak was biting his lip and frowning in concentration. The tell-tale blush gave away what was really going through his mind, though. Even tucked that piece of information away, hoping someday it would be of use.

‘I’m worried about hurting her,’ Magnus went on, ‘but I’ve been reading about the Japanese rope bondage tradition – shibari – and it sounds like it can be really gentle and intimate if you do it right.’

‘All sex can be gentle and intimate if you do it right,’ Jonas said drily.

‘I mean,’ Even cut in, ‘nothing wrong with rough sex.’

Isak had, however, chosen an inopportune moment to drink his coke, as Even’s assertion made him spit it out into his hand.

‘Alright there, man?’ Jonas asked with a smile, handing Isak a pack of tissues.

Isak coughed, ‘Just went down the wrong way.’

Mahdi returned from the bathroom then, a grin on his face, and a rumpled crease in his trousers.

‘My _god_ , Mahdi,’ Magnus said, ‘you are shameless.’

‘Hey, I give as good as I get,’ he said proudly.

Jonas and Magnus then started arguing over whether or not Magnus should try shibari at his own place (with the threat of his parents finding out), or whether he should book a hotel room (with the threat of being kicked out for being so damn freaky).

Before they could come to a decision, Mahdi piped up, ‘Hey, Even, Mikael told me yesterday it’s your birthday soon, right?’

Isak snapped to attention and looked between Mahdi and Even. ‘Is it?’

‘Yeah, I turn 20 on the 12th of February.’

‘Fuck!’ Isak laughed. ‘I forgot you’re an old man.’

Magnus jumped in: ‘You have to have a party! You don’t turn 20 every day!’

‘I’d love to, Mags,’ Even sighed, ‘but my parents and I are finally on speaking terms again and I don’t think a raging party is gonna help my cause there.’

Mahdi tentatively suggested they go to a bar, but Jonas and Magnus hissed they were too broke.

Isak then took a bite of his sandwich and spoke in muffles around it: ‘Y’k’n’hv’it’mai.’

The four guys around the table glanced at him with varying expressions of confusion.

‘Come again?’ Jonas asked.

‘I said,’ Isak swallowed, ‘you can have it at mine. Eskild already likes you all better than me, anyway.’

Even stared at Isak in wonder. ‘Are…are you sure? I wasn’t planning on having anything, seeing as it’s on a Sunday and everything.’

Isak raised his hands and shrugged. ‘So we have a party on Saturday, that way we can celebrate you turning 20 at midnight.’

Even was so overcome with affection that he was rendered speechless. Jonas and Mahdi, meanwhile, shared a loaded look, while Magnus raised his coffee cup to shout, ‘EVAK IS RISING!’

Isak immediately hit Magnus in the arm, but Even didn’t miss his shy smile.

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of Norwegian used:
> 
> ikke sant?  
> -right?
> 
> \---
> 
> Next chapter title: 'A safe assumption'
> 
> \---
> 
> Thanks for reading & your kudos & comments. it means a lot! I hope you felt something good through all this <3


	16. But I miss you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even has an epiphany. Or two. Featuring a FIFA session at Magnus' house, & a visit to the planetarium.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I said I wouldn't update for a while but I'm apparently on a roll this week, so here's a mini-chapter to keep you going. It wasn't meant to be anything more than a paragraph at the beginning of the next one, but once I started writing I realised it had to be longer.
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3

 

Jonas, Mahdi and Magnus made a point of including Even now. It started that day in the cafeteria, he noticed, after which he was asked along to a hang-out at the skate park. Then an outing to the cinema. Then FIFA at Magnus’ house.

He noticed, too, how Isak’s flirting—which was so pronounced in their one-on-one time—was absent in group settings. At first Even told himself it was just a coincidence, then he wondered if Isak telling Emma to ‘Get a fucking grip’ wasn’t the acceptance of his sexuality that it seemed. His mind started instead to wonder if the boys knew the extent of what happened with him and Isak—if Isak was properly out yet.

Then again, maybe it was that the boys knew _everything_ , down to the last detail, and Isak was careful not to make too many dick jokes in front of them so as to avoid the possibility of making a chill hang-out much more awkward than it needed to be.

Either way, Isak kept his distance from Even when the boys were around, and Even tried his best to respect it. It was probably more to do with the delicate friendship they were building, taking things at a slower pace, doing things _right_.

The last Saturday in January found them all in Magnus’ house playing FIFA in his living room. His younger sister had a ballet performance that afternoon that his parents were attending, meaning the boys had free reign.

‘Mags! Pass the damn ball!’ Mahdi yelled.

‘I can make it, I can make it,’ Magnus said, furiously pressing the buttons on his controller while his tongue poked out the side of his mouth.

Jonas smirked and looked at Isak, who immediately cut in on Magnus’ player on-screen, got possession of the ball and ran down the opposite end of the field to score his third goal.

‘ _Fy faen_ ,’ Mahdi sighed, ‘I refuse to be on this team anymore.’

Even was on a break from the game—Magnus only had 4 controllers—and watched in amusement from the side of the couch where they were all squeezed in together.

‘It’s not my fault Isak plays this way too much to be on our level,’ Magnus said.

‘I can’t help having raw talent,’ Isak piped up, with another two-dimple smile.

It was admiring those dimples that drew Even’s attention to the fact that Isak had stubble now, too. It was barely noticeable unless you were looking, but it was definitely there. And Even felt his skin get a little hotter thinking about what Isak would look like with just a bit more facial hair.

Even’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, followed by three voices.

‘Oh, they must be back,’ Magnus said, then raised his voice to ask, ‘ _Hei! Hvordan var det? Hadde du det gøy, Marit?_ ’

Marit ran into the living room. She was about 12, had the same blonde hair as Magnus, and was still dressed in her lilac tutu and white stockings. She bounced up and down and exclaimed happily how she hadn’t fallen over once and she might be able to compete for the Junior Championships if she kept practicing.

Even barely heard her however, as he saw Magnus’ parents enter. His mama was a warm, plump lady in knitwear and thick glasses, and a mop of curls on her head. His papa was a tall, reedy man with a bald patch and a v-neck sweater. They looked like they’d walked out of the 1970s, and something in their gestures told Even how at ease they were with themselves.

He’d been curious about Magnus’ mama ever since Vilde let slip she was bipolar, too. Even knew it was silly to try and assess from her appearance if he could ‘guess’ somehow, in the way he sometimes worried people could guess it of him, too.

And looking at her now, with her husband’s arm around her waist, and her proud gaze down on Marit, Even realised with a profound clarity that it didn’t affect the most important parts of her life. Here was someone who didn’t see it as a burden—and didn’t see herself as one—but instead lived her life as she wanted.

These realisations didn’t come to him in a blinding epiphany, but as slow feelings of warmth in his chest. He introduced himself to both Magnus’ mama and papa and thanked them for leaving out coffee and biscuits for them. The entire time, he felt Isak’s eyes on him, and when Magnus’ parents left after checking in—with a joyful Marit in their wake—Even glanced over to meet Isak’s gaze.

They shared a private look, a small smile, where Isak gave him a brief nod, something Even couldn’t help but interpret as, _You can be that happy, too_.

\--

‘A private show?’ Even repeated, dazed.

‘Yeah,’ Isak replied, nonchalantly. ‘It wasn’t that hard to organise. It’s the first week of February. They’re not exactly overrun with tourists.’

Isak and Even were standing on the 12 tram northwards to Kjelsås, heading straight for the Museum of Science and Technology, and Even could barely believe it.

_Surely Isak knows … surely he remembers the last time we did this._

When Isak had messaged him the previous evening to propose another place to work on their astronomy project, Even had just assumed he wanted to go to a different café. But when he met him at Olaf Ryes plass, Isak had guided him straight onto the tram and then explained that he’d booked a private show at the planetarium.

‘I don’t understand,’ Even replied at last.

‘Well I figured we could get some new ideas for the site from it. Maybe even talk to some of the people who work there? Tell them about what we’re doing?’

Isak was so laidback about it, but his foot was tapping out a staccato rhythm on the floor and he kept fidgeting with his hands. That, and Even was starting to recognise the way he rolled the corner of his lips between his teeth as a nervous tic.

‘That and I figured we’d arrive 45 minutes after they closed if I asked _you_ to organise it,’ he added with a forced-casual shrug.

_So he does remember._

Isak’s jibe, however, fell flat. The pause that possessed the space between them felt heavy and intimidating. Even didn’t know how to process this. The last time they were here, the last time they stood on this very tram, was the day it all fell apart.

Then, he reminded himself, it didn’t fall apart. They were friends again—however raw and sensitive that was—and Isak had forgiven him. Even, too, had started to forgive himself and worked hard to undo the self-destructive behavioural patterns he’d developed over the years.

‘The fact we’re here again,’ he said, before he could tell himself not to, ‘riding this tram, is kind of symbolic, isn’t it?’

Isak kept his gaze, but didn’t seem to know how to respond. He gripped the pole tighter and chewed the corner of his lips again.

‘I mean,’ Even went on, ‘it’s like… a perfect copy of our first date. Is… is that partly why you suggested this?’

He didn’t know where he got this bravery from. He could hardly keep up with the words coming out of his mouth.

Isak, however, smiled softly. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I—I wanted you to know I’m not… well, that we don’t need to treat that day like a big trauma. It happened, it’s in the past. We can move on.’

Even heard Åse’s advice ring in his head from their last session: ‘ _Stop worrying about what Isak’s motivations are. It’s clear from his behaviour that he’s moved on. I suggest you do the same._ ’

‘But you know…’ Isak continued, ‘this is also just a fucking tram.’

Even laughed so heartily that the women next to them asked him to keep it down.

\--

The planetarium show was, itself, spectacular. Though Even vaguely understood the principles of how a star expands and becomes a supernova, which is where chemical elements are formed—thanks to his weekly scientific breakdowns from Isak—it was an entirely different thing to see it on a 360° screen.

The projection focused first on a stellar nebula, a massive cloud of dust, hydrogen and helium gas, and plasma. It showed the Helix Nebula, in the Aquarius constellation, as an example. It looked like an enormous eye, with a blue iris, and a reddy-brown lid.

It was only when Isak, lying next to him, stretched out an arm and gently interlaced his fingers with Even’s, that Even realised maybe he saw a blue eye, too.

From there, the projection zoomed in on a massive star, which at the end of its life, runs out of fuel, and so its core stops nuclear fusion. This leads the outer shells of the star to collapse, which cause higher temperatures and pressure in the star.

It becomes a red giant—a huge ball of gas and heat that is slowly degenerating.

Then the star loses its outer layers due to the solar wind, and its own mass flows into its core. Eventually it becomes too heavy and cannot withstand its own gravitational force.

When the core collapses, it can reach temperatures of billions of degrees Celsius in a microsecond. And then it explodes into a supernova.

Even squeezed Isak’s hand back.

Watching the projection on screen, Even could not help but be both slightly terrified and entirely enamoured with its cosmic light. It reminded him of apocalypse shots in films, where the build up is so gradual, until everything simply turns a perfect white.

But it was what followed the white-out that caught Even’s imagination most.

The light dissipates in space, and the tiny core of neutrons—a spinning neutron star—is all that remains of what was once a massive star. Or, if it leaves behind a large core, a new phenomenon will occur. The core will have no energy source to fuse—the supernova having flung it out into space—and so the core will become engulfed by its own gravity and turn into a cosmic sinkhole for energy and matter: a black hole.

All stars meet this fate: either floating in the cosmos as debris, or collapsing in on itself and sucking surrounding matter into its forcefield.

But the supernova—it’s pure creation. All known chemical elements are forged in the core of a supernova before being cast out into space. It is the most remarkable phenomena in space: it creates new life.

Even barely paid attention to the rest of the projection, simply thinking, _No matter how small or transient a thing is, it can still emit a light brighter than anything in the known universe._

He and Isak held hands the entire way through the show.

\--

On the tram back to town, Even’s phone pinged with a new message from his mama asking if Even wanted a chocolate or lemon cake for his birthday.

As he texted back a reply—chocolate, of course, his mama made a decadent chocolate cake with stout and espresso in the recipe—Isak spotted his phone case and gently pointed it out.

‘That’s new.’

Even sent the text and then followed Isak’s gesture to the picture of _The Scream_. ‘Oh,’ he said, bashfully, ‘yeah, I got it a while ago.’

The awkward moment that stretched out between them then was ambiguous to Even: was Isak silent because Munch reminded him of their first kiss at his grave? Or the fight they had? Both?

‘I went back there,’ Isak said suddenly.

‘Where?’

‘Munch’s grave.’

Even swallowed the lump in his throat. He hadn’t expected that reply. And, he realised with a flash, he hadn’t been back to the graveyard since their night there.

He felt a wash of heat across his neck at the memory.

 

> _‘I dare you to finally fucking kiss me, idiot.’_
> 
> _The feeling of Isak’s curls between his fingers. His moans. His sighs._
> 
> _The weight of him when Even pushed him up against the pillar and he wrapped his legs around Even’s waist._

Judging by Isak’s blush, he was remembering too.

‘I went back a few days after our fight,’ he went on. ‘I—I wanted space to think and Eskild is sometimes not the best for that,’ he added with a smile.

‘I’ve been going back every week, actually,’ he said, his foot tapping the ground, and his fingers fidgeting at his cuffs. ‘Whenever I missed you, I would go back.’

Even blanched at that.

‘But…you see me every Saturday?’ he prompted.

He knew. He knew what Isak meant. Because he missed Isak, too. He missed him all the time.

He just wanted to hear Isak say it. He wanted so desperately to know if Isak meant it the way he did.

‘Yeah,’ Isak replied. ‘But I _miss_ you.’

All at once, the sounds of the tram were the only thing Even could hear. Its gentle bells, the screech on the tracks, the whirr of the wheels—they were deafening.

‘I—I wasn’t taking care of myself then,’ Even responded cautiously. ‘It wasn’t good for you. For either of us.’

He felt like he was trying to hold gossamer threads in his hands. If he wasn’t careful, everything would fall right through his fingers.

Isak, too, looked like he was trying to thread a needle with an eye far too small to be hooked.

‘You’re good now, right?’ Isak asked.

Even hoped, with every fibre of his being, that another question lurked tentatively beneath.

‘Yeah,’ Even replied, happily, ‘I’m good.’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Norwegian used:
> 
> Hvordan var det? Hadde du det gøy, Marit?  
> -How was it? Did you have fun, Marit?
> 
> \--
> 
> Also I know I said this chapter was meant to be titled 'A safe assumption,' but actually that's for the next one, which is Even's long-awaited birthday party!


	17. Where's this one?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even is direct. Featuring a frank conversation with his mama, texts with Isak, a bathroom meeting, a vors and a club night, Even's jealousy, a miscommunication, the start of Even's birthday party, and so much tenderness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied, again! This chapter also turned out to be far longer than I'd planned, and so the title is different from what I'd promised, apologies.
> 
> In any case, here it is. My longest chapter yet. I hope you enjoy <3
> 
> CW: Minor depressive episode at the very beginning. Otherwise, this chapter is pretty fluffy <3

 

The following Wednesday morning, Even woke up, and immediately felt… off. As he lay in bed listening to his alarm beep noisily beside him he tried to figure out what was wrong.

He and Isak were friends again, he was on top of schoolwork, he’d already done revision for his upcoming maths exam, he had exercised twice that week, he was taking his meds, and his parents had even started using ‘they/them’ pronouns when they referred to Mikael. Everything was going good—everything was better than it had ever been.

But he lay there, and the alarm kept blaring, and he didn’t have the energy or the motivation to raise his arm to turn it off. He felt heavy and listless.

_Did I have a bad dream? Is this some weird liminal state where my brain hasn’t caught up with its consciousness yet?_

The alarm was still ringing. It was piercing and insistent, and yet as much as it started to give him a headache, he couldn’t turn it off.

Then he realised what was wrong.

 _I’m fucking depressed_.

At that moment, his mama walked into the room and looked down on the bed where Even was wrapped in his duvet.

‘Honey? The alarm. Can you not hear it or something?’

He closed his eyes in pain and shook his head. ‘No, I hear it.’

Seeming to understand, his mama leaned down and turned it off. Then she sat on the bed next to Even and gently ran a hand down his side.

‘Everything ok?’ she asked quietly.

Even squeezed his eyes shut tighter. ‘I don’t understand,’ he muttered. ‘I don’t _understand_. Everything is going great. Why did I wake up like this.’

‘Oh love,’ she said. ‘Åse said this might happen. It’s not necessarily triggered by anything. It’s just your brain chemistry. Please don’t beat yourself up about it.’

Even fought the tears that were forming in the corners of his eyes. As much as he was angry at himself for being depressed for no good reason, he was more touched by his mama taking his side.

‘Do you want to try having some breakfast? Then we can decide if you’re well enough to go to school,’ she offered.

Even nodded, but didn’t move.

‘Sweetie,’ she sighed. ‘Mental health is as much a part of physical health as anything else. So if you’re suffering mentally, it’s just as serious as if you had woken up with a fever, or a sprain, or a rash. You can’t just _wish_ it away.’

She smoothed down the covers and ran a hand through his hair. As frustrated as he still was at himself, he was calmed by the affectionate touches.

‘Depression is part of your bipolar,’ she went on, ‘so we need to handle a depressive episode like any other kind of illness. With care and the proper treatment.’

Even nodded, and slowly sat upright in bed.

‘There we go,’ his mama said brightly. ‘There’s my beautiful son.’

He smiled and shrugged. Then, before she stood to leave, he quickly said, ‘Mama.’

Turning around to face him, she waited for him to continue. Just by her expression alone Even could tell she would wait as long as she had to for him to speak. His heart was brimming over with gratitude and love, but he had to deal with the secret he’d been keeping from her.

‘I have something to tell you.’

She sat back down on the bed and placed a hand on his knee. ‘Yes, honey?’

Even drew the pillowcase into his lap and started fiddling with the tag on it while he slowly explained:

‘Isak is hosting a party for my birthday next week.’

Silence.

Even kept talking.

‘I know you and papa are still struggling with … me coming out, and the way I identify myself, but … he’s a good friend to me. He’s more than that, really, but … I haven’t pushed him on that since I went manic. I don’t know if it’s going to lead anywhere other than friendship, but he means a lot to me. So. I thought you should know.’

He couldn’t bear to look up. He couldn’t imagine how this would change the expression on her face.

After a few seconds, his mama put her hand over his own, still fiddling with the pillow.

‘Even, look at me.’

Slowly, he raised his eyes up. His mama was smiling.

 _Smiling_. Even could hardly believe it.

‘Your papa and I have had difficulties with your sexuality, it’s true,’ she said. ‘And we both said things the day of your episode that we wouldn’t say now. About you, and about Isak. We never met him, but by Astrid’s account, he’s very kind. We … oh, Even.’

Taking Even entirely by surprise, his mama let out a few silent tears of her own.

‘Your papa always wanted a son. When you were born…I’ve never seen him so elated. And we wanted you to have such an easy life. But you always struggled with your mental health, and we struggled trying to keep up with it, too. We were _worried_ for you. And worried it was our fault. Then when your friends came out as bisexual and gay, when you told us Mikael wasn’t a ‘him’ anymore, when you said you were _pansexual_ —it all seemed too… out there for us. It seemed like you were making your life even more difficult than it needed to be.’

Even reached out and held her hand. It was hard to hear his mama talk about how they struggled. And he didn’t know how else to express his love for her at that moment.

‘But… we’re learning. You know? We’re learning, too. About all these things that are more out in the open now. It wasn’t like that for us. It wasn’t ever like that when we grew up. Men had to like women and women had to like men. Still, you know, I say that, and yet I remember people in my school and in my town that didn’t follow those rules … but they were seen as exceptions. I know it’s all far too politically incorrect to say any of this as commonplace now. So it’s sometimes much easier for your papa and I to just … not think about it.’

She paused for a moment, wiped away some of the tears and took a deep breath.

‘But you, love—you’re such a good soul. I see now how much our shortcomings made you dislike yourself, and I’m so sorry for that. I—I hope you know we only ever wanted the best for you.’

Even jumped forward and hugged her, overcome. His mama gently rubbed his back and tucked his head into her shoulder.

‘You’re such a good man, Even. And, you know, about this boy. You…you’re always drawn to the underdogs. And you thrive in taking care of them. So I hope he does the same for you. And if you see something in him, then I’m sure we will, too.’

He squeezed her tight in his arms.

The only words that ran around his mind that morning were, _thank you, thank you, thank you_.

 

\--

** Isak **

** Onsdag 11,35 **

 

_hei  
you not coming to school?_

_guess who woke up depressed this morning_

_> this guy<_

_dritt_

_skitt skjer_

_at least fru knausgård won’t  
be pissed at me this time _

_(my mama called her)_

_it’s just so frustrating when I’m_  
_depressed but there’s nothing_  
_actually wrong_

 _take it one day at a time_  
  
_and if one day is too much_  
_take it one hour at a time_  
  
_and if one hour is too much_  
_take it one minute at a time_

_you’re so sweet  
you know that?_

_Even_

_you deserve to be supported_

_…but you also ruined my joke by interrupting_

_oh I’m terribly sorry_  
_can’t interrupt the stand-up_  
_genius Isak Valtersen_

_uh rude much_

_alright then hit me what’s the joke_

_before I was so HEINOUSLY cut off_

_I was going to say_

_if one minute is too much  
then we have alcohol_

_so romantic <3_

_i’m the master of romance  
obviously_

_but speaking of alcohol_  
  
_you think you can_  
_make it to vilde’s thing on friday?_

 _wow your game_  
_so amazing_  
_master of romance one second_  
_alcohol hustler the next_

_multi tasking  
you should try it_

_there are so many sex jokes  
I could make in response to that_

_but I won’t because, unlike you,  
I’m a good friend_

_please  
we both know I’m the sex multitasker_

_honest to god valtersen_

_is that a challenge_

_maybe_

_you coming to the girls’ party or not?_

_remind me what this is_

_Vilde wants to go clubbing with the girls_  
_mags of course insisted on joining_  
_you know what he’s like when_  
_they play Beyoncé_

_I would love to see that_

_but I guess I should see how I_  
_wake up on Friday before_  
_I promise anything_

_THANKS MENTAL HEALTH_

_ok am I gonna say it or are you_

_?_

_actually now I think about it_  
_it’s too complicated to make this_  
_into a morning wood joke_

 _stand-up genius isak valtersen_  
_coming to the stage_  
_give him a warm round of_  
_applause, everyone_

_it’ll clearly be his last for the evening_

_you know for someone who’s_  
_on a low today_  
_you’re sure fucking high on the sass_

_multi tasking  
you should try it_

_Fru Haugen is about to confiscate  
my phone so _

_I am once more cut off in my prime_

_but I hope you feel better_

_and that you can make it on Friday_

_takk_ <3

<3

 

\--

Even stayed home from school all of Wednesday, but forced himself back on Thursday, despite barely having the energy to walk from class to class.

It was made considerably easier, however, by Isak texting him mid way through his English class to meet him in the second floor bathroom.

At first Even stared at his phone and wondered if he was hallucinating somehow. But there it was, plain and simple. ‘Come to the second floor bathroom in 5 min.’ No other explanation.

Of course, Even did. He excused himself and headed straight there.

When he walked in, Isak was washing his hands in the sink. He looked up to Even and smiled.

‘Hey, good, you’re here,’ he said, as he went to the paper towel dispenser and then dried off his hands.

‘Yeah, I am,’ Even said, ‘also…why am I here?’

Isak smiled and walked back over to Even, who was now leaning against the sink unit with both eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

‘I wanted to give you something,’ Isak said casually, before biting his lip and curling his hands into fists at his sides. Even wasn’t sure why Isak was nervous all of a sudden, or how he could go from bossy in a text to flustered in person.

‘Ok,’ Even encouraged. ‘Where is it?’

Isak’s hands uncurled. His shoulders straightened. He kept Even’s gaze and then, he shook his head in answer. Confused, Even was about to ask him what was happening, when Isak’s face changed.

In a second, it was clear how all his guards were down, how he was letting Even see everything. And the change made Even catch his breath: Isak was looking at him with such pure tenderness and total affection.

Then, without warning, he stepped forward and wrapped Even up in a bruising hug, tucking his nose above Even’s collarbone, and pushing his face into Even’s neck.

Even melted immediately at his touch and brought his hands to Isak’s shoulders, slowly inching his fingers up into the curls that grew low on his nape. He could feel the warmth of Isak’s breath on his skin and closed his eyes at the _nearness_ of him.

He didn’t ask why Isak did this, too overcome at the gesture itself. He was holding Isak. _Holding_ him. He had him in his arms again.

All at once Even was assaulted with the realisation that Isak really did miss him. It was all too easy for Even to feel how much he’d missed Isak—but here Isak was, clinging onto Even desperately, his fingers bound to leave imprints on his back, and it was so clear in that touch how much Isak had missed him, too.

And that realisation had Even grab tighter onto the boy in his embrace. He didn’t know what brought Isak to do this now, _here_ , but he didn’t want to question it. The point was that they were both breathing heavily and swaying into each other, and he wasn’t going to be the first to let go. Not this time.

After a minute, five minutes, ten minutes—Even didn’t know or care—Isak leaned back and untangled himself from their constricting hug. He cleared his throat and pulled at his jumper.

‘I know you’re… you’re coming out of an episode and when I saw you in the yard this morning you looked so tired and … I don’t know,’ he said, his voice scratchy and raw as he rambled, ‘I figured you could use a hug. I hope that’s not … presumptuous.’

 _Dear god, this boy_ , Even thought.

‘Not at all,’ Even replied, suddenly hearing how his own voice caught in his throat. ‘I … I appreciate it.’

An awkward moment passed between them. Isak seemed to be waiting for him to say something, and he was keenly aware of the fact that this was yet another time when Isak went out of his way to take care of him. And Even felt like he had to start giving something back.

‘Isak, I—I’m so glad. Fuck. I’m just so glad for this.’

It came out much less articulate than it felt, but it was close to what Even was trying to express.

Isak, though, appeared to understand. His eyes widened and he gave Even a small smile. It was tentative, barely there, and Even felt like he needed to do more, somehow.

So he reached out and took hold of Isak’s hands, and quietly said, ‘I’m so fucking glad that you exist.’

Isak smiled. It was shy and private and he didn’t look up from his hands—still intertwined with Even’s. Still, Even knew he understood.

‘Alright,’ Isak said, then, standing up straight, his guarded expression suddenly back on his face. ‘We better go back to class.’

Even’s heart sank, just a little. He knew he had no right to expect anything, or even hope that Isak might want him. But touching him so closely again, seeing how darkly green his eyes were in the afternoon light, smelling that scent from the top of his head that was so distinctly _Isak_ – that same scent he remembered from his sweat and his naked body and his open legs— but Even had to stop himself there.

‘Yeah,’ Even said, putting up his own defences. ‘We should.’

He couldn’t concentrate on school for the rest of the day.

\--

By the following evening, Even felt almost back to normal. He still stayed far away from alcohol at the _vors_ at Eva’s house, and for once didn’t feel weird about having to say why. Magnus, Eva, Vilde, and Chris just shrugged and offered Even his choice of soft drinks.

Even was touched to see how close Eva and Noora were. They orbited each other all night, their hands unselfconsciously moving to the others’ even while they each spoke to different people. He tried his best not to be envious. But just Noora’s hand absentmindedly curved around Eva’s thigh made Even press his fingernails into his palms, and fail miserably to not look at Isak.

Isak—he was standing against the opposite wall with Jonas and Magnus, a beer can in his right hand, his eyes drifting back to Even throughout the night.

Not long into the _vors_ , though, Mahdi and Mikael texted to tell everyone they wouldn’t make it, but they’d meet them at the club.

‘Ugh,’ Magnus groaned, ‘they’re just missing it because they’re too busy fucking.’

Jonas and Isak both rolled their eyes and laughed. ‘We all knew it without having to spell it out, Mags,’ Jonas said.

‘Yeah and aren’t you just jealous anyway?’ Isak asked slyly.

‘Jealous?’ Magnus said defensively. ‘Why would I be jealous?’

Jonas and Isak—seemingly still reading each other’s thoughts—smirked. Then Isak said, ‘Because of what _didn’t_ work for you on the weekend.’

Even suddenly put two and two together and worried for a moment that Magnus was being unfairly mocked.

Then Magnus sighed and gave them all a small smile. ‘Ok, ok,’ he conceded, and then explained to Even, ‘Vilde wanted to try anal but we both got food poisoning from a bad kebab and spent the entire weekend with the shits.’

Even bit his lip to keep a laugh from bursting out of him. ‘Aw, Mags, I’m really sorry.’

‘No, it’s ok,’ Magnus conceded. ‘It’s funny.’

At that, Jonas and Isak fell apart in laughter and Even couldn’t help but join them.

‘But hey,’ Magnus went on, ‘it was worth it to see the look on Isak’s face when I asked him for advice.’

And that casual remark made Even’s brain short-circuit for a few seconds.

_Magnus asked Isak about anal._

_Magnus knows Isak has had anal sex._

_Isak felt comfortable sharing this with the boys._

_The boys are comfortable enough with it that Magnus just cracked a joke._

_Isak is smiling, too, so he doesn’t mind this being brought up now._

_Magnus is now looking at me with a knowing smirk, and so is Jonas._

_They know. They_ know _. Isak is out. Isak is out and proud._

_Oh my god, Isak._

Even had to catch himself from walking right over to where Isak was then leaning against the kitchen countertop and giving him a deep kiss.

‘Oh,’ Magnus suddenly said, still looking at Even, ‘you didn’t know Isak told us about you two?’

‘Uh,’ Even replied quickly, his mind still imagining Isak’s lips on his own, ‘I … I wasn’t sure. And I didn’t want to push, so…’

Jonas—noticing Even’s deer-in-headlights stance—wrapped an arm around Even and clinked their glasses together.

‘Mahdi and I wanted to go hard on you, but Isak convinced us otherwise. Now we’re just glad you’re back and better than ever,’ he said, proudly.

Even glanced up at Isak, who was taking a long sip from his beer bottle, and smiling widely. But he kept eye contact with Even and his smile grew even bigger, like he was thinking of another joke.

Not wanting Jonas or Magnus—who began debating the merits of getting a taxi versus a tram to the club—to interrupt their moment, Even took his phone out and texted Isak.

_What’s so funny?_

Isak took out his phone, read his text, and smiled again, before replying.

 

 

 

> _Just thinking of that curse you taught us at the last vors_

_What curse?_

 

Even stared at Isak, suspecting what was about to happen, and barely containing his excitement. Isak, in turn, licked his lips and glanced briefly at Even’s. Then typed out his reply.

 

 

 

> _Ayreh feek_

 

Even’s knees nearly buckled beneath him with joy and arousal. Sensing Even’s struggle, Isak laughed and finished the last of his beer.

 _Ayreh feek_ , Even thought, gleefully. ‘ _My penis in you_.’ _I’ve got him back._

 

\--

 

At the club, however, Even realised he really hadn’t.

He was sitting in a booth with Eva and Noora—both of whom were wrapped up in the other—and sipping his third glass of coke of the evening while they complained about Eva’s mom kicking up a fuss about Eva moving out.

Even was only half-listening, because he’d seen a tall black-haired greaser-looking guy waiting to order at the bar, and he was standing next to Isak, checking him out every time Isak wasn’t looking.

After a few minutes, the guy got up the courage to gently put a hand on Isak’s arm and lean forward to say something in his ear.

Even’s hackles immediately rose, and he stared, unblinking, at the scene unfolding in front of him.

The guy left his hand on Isak’s arm and kept talking, occasionally gesturing with his other hand, and apparently cracking a joke, as he leaned back to gauge Isak’s reaction.

Isak smiled back, nodding, and giving the guy a polite chuckle.

Even could read the guy’s thoughts as if they were own. _Next thing he’ll do is, he’ll lean forward again, keep touching Isak—probably his waist—while he keeps flirting._

‘Even! Are you alright?’ Noora asked, worried.

Snapping his attention back to the girls next to him, Even reflexively replied, ‘Yeah, why?’

‘Because you’re holding your glass so hard your knuckles are white,’ Eva said.

Looking down at his hand, Even realised they were right.

‘And you haven’t blinked in a while, it’s a little scary. Are you feeling ok?’ Noora asked. ‘I’m not drinking, either, so if you want someone to bring you home, I can.’

Eva squeezed Even’s arm. ‘Me too,’ she said.

‘I’m ok, I promise,’ he said, ‘just spaced out for a second.’

Seemingly satisfied with Even’s answer, the girls nodded and picked up where they left off in their tales of moving house.

Even, meanwhile, peered through the crowd to see if he could find Isak and the guy trying to ruin his dreams.

Sure enough, there the guy was, his hand now resting on Isak’s hip. Isak was looking at it, and then at his blatantly hopeful expression.

Then, Isak slowly leaned in. Even’s heart stopped. _Is he going to kiss him?_

He couldn’t watch it. But he couldn’t look away. Isak’s face was so close to his now, and then he said something in the guy’s ear.

It took an agonising ten or twelve seconds, until the guy retracted his hand and nodded. He picked up his glass, raised it to Isak, and walked away.

Even breathed out, finally releasing his glass from his death grip, and tried to reason with himself.

_You have no right to be jealous. Isak owes you nothing._

Then Isak immediately looked at Even, as if he’d felt the whole time that Even had been watching. Even blushed at the knowing look he got, before Isak sent him a wink.

\--

The following week passed quickly for Even—he and Isak hadn’t met up for their project the day after the club night, because everyone was suffering too much. So, because of looming deadlines and exam preparation, he hadn’t seen Isak at all.

He’d texted him throughout the week, and Isak was responsive and friendly as ever, but more and more Even started to feel that his hopes for more were unfounded. He’d tried flirting multiple times over text but Isak, though he’d keep up the back-and-forth, never moved it further. He accepted Even’s attentions, but didn’t seem interested in returning them.

Of course, Astrid did not accept this account.

‘Let me see the texts,’ she demanded.

He’d called her just to check in, but as usual, Astrid saw right through him.

‘Come on!’ Even whined, ‘I’m not doing that.’

‘You want my advice or not?’ she said, ‘because I have 25 minutes until the kids are out of school, so think quick.’

Even capitulated. He needed a third party opinion. He needed some form of clarity on the situation which he sorely lacked.

He screenshotted his message history that week and sent the images to Astrid.

 

** Isak **

Tirsdag 15,36

_halla, hva skjer_

_ikke noe, I guess_

_still hungover I think_

_Isak it’s tuesday_

_yeah and_

_you’re right, you’re  
only a seventeen year old_

_makes sense your body is  
degenerating like this_

_so rude_

_such a great body, too_

_a tragedy, really_

_I’m not even kidding_

Onsdag 22,22

_was that too much?_

_I’m used to your appalling  
attempts at flirting_

_Isak_

_really though_

_no it wasn’t_

_I just don’t want to  
say or do anything stupid_

_but you have to leave the house  
sometime_

_Isak!!_

_seriously  
it’s not too much_

_would it be too much_  
_for me to say you looked_  
_real good in those jeans today_

_are they new?_

Torsdag 07,42

_sorry_

_fell asleep_

_and yeah they are_

Fredag 19,30

_btw can you bring beer tomorrow?_

_I know it’s shitty to ask you to bring  
beer to your own party but_

_Eskild is my only other ‘source’  
and he’s broke atm_

_Mahdi’s asking Mikael to get some  
but—again—pretty sure they’re broke_

_haha yeah they are_

_and sure thing, I’ll bring some_

_you’re being good enough to throw  
this for me, it’s the least I could do_

_Tuborg?_

_as long as it’s beer, idc_

_a man of simple tastes_

_beer, pizza, dick_

_…in that order, or_

_who said they’re mutually  
exclusive_

_sounds like you’ve got  
a busy evening planned_

_what about you?_

_uh, probably:_

_(1) cuddling/sex_  
_(2) good films_  
 _(3) homemade food_

_i meant do you have a busy  
evening!!_

_see above_

_lol_

_oh right_

_well, have fun_

_try not to be even more pretentious_

_that ship has sailed, lbr_

* * *

 

Astrid read the texts and called Even back.

‘So?’ he said.

‘I see what you mean,’ she conceded. ‘He’s not against the flirting. Still, it doesn’t look like he’s actively encouraging you. But, I think you’ve made it worse for yourself.’

‘What? How?’

‘The texts you sent last night. I can see how Isak might think you were planning on having a date with someone.’

That didn’t make sense to him. Who on earth would he go on a date with? All he wanted was Isak.

‘What are you talking about?’ Even tried to stay calm. He did. But he was pacing around his room, regardless.

‘Isak asked you what your plans are and you say you’re planning on some cuddling-slash-sex, good films, and homemade food.’

Even nearly shrieked down the phone, ‘I was _kidding,_ obviously!’

A long-drawn sigh came from the other end of the line. ‘Why do you think Isak said “have fun”?’

‘I thought he got the joke! That he was being sarcastic!’

‘Maybe I’m wrong,’ Astrid said. ‘Maybe he got that you were being sarcastic. But I imagine part of the reason Isak isn’t so effusive via text is because tone is hard to gauge from it, and he’s known all week he’s hosting your party so it’ll be easier to catch up with you there.’

Even hadn’t considered that, and Astrid had a point. Where Even had been dying for any and all contact with him, his relative reticence might simply be because the party was looming and he was waiting to talk properly there.

‘What I’m really getting at here,’ Astrid went on, with the tell-tale sound of keys rattling in the background as she walked out of the house, ‘is that you need to be direct with him. Just, tell him how you feel. It’s awkward and painful and weird but you have to do it. Besides, didn’t he say before—like, way before you guys hooked up—that he needed more than flirting to know someone’s feelings?’

Even paused at that. As per tradition, Astrid was right. He thought back to the first _vors_ with Jonas, Magnus, Mahdi and Isak.

 

 

> ‘ _Mags, serr,’ Jonas said, ‘You keep flirting_ at _Vilde, instead of just making an actual move_.’
> 
> _‘Yeah,’ Isak jumped in, ‘How is anyone meant to know what to do with that? You have to be clear about what you want.’_

 

Even made his decision. Whether it worked out the way he wanted, or not, he had to be honest.

‘Good luck, baby brother,’ Astrid said with a smile.

\--

It was now 20,00. Even was standing outside the double blue doors covered in silver and white graffiti at Deichmans gate. He fiddled with the cigarette perched behind his ear, and checked his phone for the umpteenth time to make sure he was on time. Isak had given him strict instructions to arrive at kl20, so that everyone else was definitely already there. ‘It’s your birthday, you should walk into a crowded room of people ready to celebrate, not be the first loser there,’ he’d joked that morning.

Even hadn’t pressed the button yet. He almost didn’t want to. This moment felt significant. Regardless of what happened the rest of the night, he wanted to remember this feeling, standing at Isak’s door, right on the precipice.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he reached out, and pressed the button to call Isak’s flat.

He could already hear the loud music from the open windows above, blaring a remix of Sigrid’s _Don’t Kill My Vibe_ , so deafening he almost didn’t notice the buzzer.

Quickly, he stepped into the building, and hopped up the stairs.

When he knocked at the door, he wondered if anyone would even be able to hear it over the blaring speakers. But sure enough, after a few seconds, it opened, and Jonas stood on the other side.

‘Hey! Birthday boy is here!’ he yelled, before wrapping Even in a hug. Over Jonas’ shoulder, Even could see the crowd already gathered, who—upon hearing Jonas’ announcement—burst into cheers.

After saying hi to Jonas, Even scanned the crowd, seeing Magnus and Vilde already feeling each other up in the far corner of the living room. He then noticed Mahdi and Mikael sitting on the loveseat, talking to Elias and Mutta. Next to the sofa, Eva, Noora, and Chris were dancing together, before pulling Jonas, Eskild and Adam to join them on the makeshift dancefloor.

Even walked into the kitchen to drop off the extra beers he’d bought, where he found Sana and Yousef flirting next to the sink. They barely even noticed him there.

There was only one person unaccounted for.

Assuming that the one person he had yet to see was still getting ready (late as ever), Even walked back into the living room. He was wondering which group to join first, when he heard a voice behind him.

‘Hey.’

Even wheeled around and didn’t try in the slightest to stop the grin that spread across his face.

He drew Isak into a tight embrace before he could overthink it, and it was then he noticed for the first time in months just how much Isak had been going to the gym.

Unlike in the bathroom earlier the previous week, Isak wasn’t wearing five layers of clothes. Instead, he was wearing a green t-shirt that didn’t hang low from his frame as it did when Even knew Isak first. Now it showed the muscles that weren’t there before.

His arms were _definitely_ more toned, and his shoulders were wider, somehow, too. Even tried to observe this objectively, but it was a failed effort.

‘Isak,’ he whispered, not trying anymore to mask the tenderness he had for that name.

In response, Isak squeezed his back so closely that he could feel the tips of Isak’s fingers on his spine, the tip of Isak’s nose buried in his neck. It was just like their hug in the bathroom, and Even nearly forgot there were other people in the room.

When they both pulled back, Isak leaned to the side to pick up a bottle of champagne he’d left on the table next to him. ‘I heard you’re an old man now. Time to celebrate,’ he said with his two-dimple smile.

‘You got me champagne?’ Even asked in wonder. ‘This is fucking _Moët_ , Isak, this must have cost a bomb!’

Isak shrugged and said, ‘It’s the go-to celebration booze, so…’

Just then, Eva finally tore her eyes away from Noora and spotted Even, shouting, ‘Hey! Guys, we need to get Even’s gifts!’

Even glanced up from the _Moët et Chandon_ bottle he couldn’t believe he was holding, to see everyone running to the couches, the corner between which they’d hidden boxes and boxes of presents.

‘Oh my god,’ he said, ‘you didn’t … you didn’t have to all go to this effort…’

Eskild waved a hand at him. ‘ _Please_ , Even. We did practically nothing. This whole thing was Isak’s pet project. Who else would blow their week’s budget on some champagne?’

‘ _Eskild_ ,’ Isak hissed, then pinched the bridge of his nose.

Even didn’t know what to say to that. He was saved from the obligation, however, when Eva and Noora pushed him over to the sofa and thrust their gift into his hands.

‘You didn’t have to, guys..’ he began.

‘Hush!’ Eva said. ‘It’s your birthday. You get gifts. Now open it, or we’ll be offended.’

Even smiled at her insistence and dutifully opened the present in his lap. The whole scene looked a little silly, with everyone on their feet, except him, alone on the couch. But he appreciated their efforts, and carefully pulled apart the giftwrap. What it revealed was a small polaroid camera, something Even had mentioned _months_ ago to the girls as something he’d like to own someday. His smile was so wide it almost hurt.

After hugging and thanking Eva and Noora, he opened the rest of the gifts. Chris and Sana gave him a framed print of Klimt’s _The Kiss_ , a painting he’d saved as his phone screensaver at the start of the year. Elias, Mutta, Yousef, and Adam bought him a new hand-held camcorder—seeing as he’d dropped the last one and cracked the lens. Jonas, Magnus and Mahdi gave him a 3000kr flight voucher, gleefully suggesting they all use it on a boys’ weekend in Copenhagen. Mikael insisted on buying him a gift themselves, and presented Even with his own tarot deck.

‘Fucking _finally_ ,’ Even sighed.

‘What’s happening?’ Chris asked.

‘You’re meant to _inherit_ or _receive_ a tarot deck, rather than buy one outright for yourself. And I’m so superstitious that even though I’ve wanted one forever, I didn’t want to break that tradition,’ he explained.

‘Yes, yes, yes,’ Eskild interrupted, elbowing his way to the front of the group. All the giftgivers were sitting around Even, now, surrounded by discarded giftpaper, and curiously looking at the remaining gift—from Eskild.

He was holding a tessellated rectangular paper bag, and presented it to Even with a flourish.

‘I suggest you just up-end it,’ Eskild said, ‘like every good romp.’

Even laughed and rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. Out into his lap fell a bag of penis-shaped pasta, small plastic wrappers of penis-shaped sweets, straws that twisted into penis shapes at the end, as well as a box of condoms, and an actual aubergine.

‘I went with a theme,’ Eskild explained.

Over the raucous laughter from the rest of the party, it was barely heard. Even, however, tried to express everything he felt for Eskild’s forgiveness, then, by mouthing a sincere _thank you_ over the noise of Elias hooking up the speakers to his phone, which was now blasting Gabrielle’s _Nattergal_.

‘Wait, wait, I haven’t given him my gift!’ Vilde shrieked as she ran into the kitchen.

‘Dim the lights!’ Sana ordered.

Chris dutifully turned the lights off in the flat, leaving it bathed only in the dim glow from the fairylights around the ceiling.

A few moments later, Vilde shouted over the music, ‘ELIAS! Pause!’

Quickly, Elias shut off the speakers, and shouted back, ‘Why are we interrupting the playlist??’

Then, past the kitchen doorway, candles emerged, casting a romantic glow through the darkness. Even realised Vilde was carrying a cake.

Immediately everyone started singing,

_Hurra for deg som fyller ditt år!_   
_Ja, deg vil vi gratulere!_   
_Alle i ring omkring deg vi står,_   
_og se, nå vil vi marsjere,_   
_bukke, nikke, neie, snu oss omkring,_   
_danse for deg med hopp og sprett og spring,_   
_ønske deg av hjertet alle gode ting!_   
_Og si meg så, hva vil du mere?_   
_Gratulere!_

It was only when the cake was on the coffee table in front of him that Chris turned the lights back on. When she did, he could clearly see the blue icing across the top:

_‘We love EBN.’_

He drew his lower lip between his teeth, a little overwhelmed at the affection in the room, and the kindness in Vilde’s gesture.

‘Kosegruppe baked it for you,’ Vilde explained, ‘I hope you like it.’

Even swallowed back the tears, stood up and lifted Vilde up in his arms in a tight hug.

‘I love it.’

\--

While everyone tucked into cake and Elias argued about the next song on the playlist with anyone who dared question him, Isak touched Even lightly on the arm, catching his attention.

‘I have a gift for you, too,’ he said quietly, ‘but I wanted to give it to you in private.’

 _Yes_. _Just you and me_.

Even didn’t want to get ahead of himself—‘in private’ didn’t necessarily translate to ‘make out session.’ If he was lucky, Isak would give him a thoughtful card. That was it. He wouldn’t let himself hope for more. He couldn’t.

Isak led him back into his bedroom, and though Even wasn’t sure if Isak was thinking the same—that the last time he was in that room, it was to a very different playlist of _Fuck, yes, Even, more, please, oh god_ —but once he saw the bed with its familiar blue-and-grey striped sheets, he heated up at just the memory.

Oblivious to Even’s internal struggles, Isak walked over to his desk, where he’d left out an envelope with Even’s name written on the front, and carefully picked it up and handed it to him.

That reminded Even. With a surge of bravery, he put his hand in his jacket pocket and pulled out the present he’d prepared for Isak. ‘This…is for you,’ he said.

Isak frowned. ‘But you’re the birthday boy?’

‘Yeah, but I wanted to give this to you. Not just as a thank you for hosting tonight, but…because you deserve it.’

‘Let’s open them at the same time,’ Isak suggested.

Even turned over the envelope in his hands, enjoying the scrawl of Isak’s handwriting, before he thumbed it open. Inside was a standard Happy 20th card, but Even didn’t miss the fact that this one seemed to have a pink-yellow-and-blue colour scheme.

Inside was a message:

_Kjære Even,_  
_Happy Birthday._  
_I know we have talked about everything. But there is one more thing I want to say._  
_You are not alone._  
_Remember that._  
_Isak_

 

Even held the card open, slowly realising that he was trembling. What he had done to deserve Isak’s forgiveness, he didn’t fully know. It was the sweetest, best present he could have hoped for.

He was pulled back to reality by Isak’s voice. ‘Look inside,’ Isak encouraged, still holding the envelope Even had given him, having paused to watch Even’s reaction.

Redirecting his attention to the envelope in his left hand, Even pulled out a small picture. He recognised it immediately as one of his nudes, a tasteful—if explicit—shot of his half-hard dick, which he was holding by the base, with his left hand. The lighting was dark enough that only parts of his thighs and hips were visible, but the veins in his hand were prominent, clearly having just finished only minutes before.

He stared at it. Then stared at Isak. Then stared back at the picture.

Isak was full-on grinning at him as he explained, ‘I didn’t tell you, but Mik kind of lost a bet to me, and I decided the renumeration was…sending me one of the drafts from Insta that you didn’t post. They logged into your Insta, snapshotted it, and sent it to me.’

All of a sudden, Isak’s face dropped as he continued, ‘Sorry. _Faen_. I realise now that was a huge invasion of your privacy. But I—I wanted it so I could give it to you, as a kind of gag gift, olive branch thing. Fuck. Sorry. It’s only hearing myself aloud that I feel like I’ve crossed a major line—’

‘It’s absolutely ok,’ Even interrupted, placing his hand on Isak’s arm. ‘It’s funny. Honestly, if I wasn’t caught so off-guard I would have burst out laughing.’

‘Besides…’ he added, with a smirk, ‘it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.’

The blush that darkened Isak’s cheeks was enough to make Even want to fall to his knees then and there.

‘Now come on,’ Even said, instead, ‘open it.’

Reminded of the envelope in his hands, Isak nodded and slid his thumb under the flap, finally taking out the piece of paper inside, and unfolding it.

It was an A4 page, just a simple page torn out of a jotter pad Even used in maths class. But it was covered in boxes. The first held the caption ‘At the same time in a completely different place in the universe,’ and every other box was simply captioned, ‘Another.’ It showed Isak and Even as childhood friends. As neighbours. As best men at Yousef & Sana’s wedding. As spies running from Nazis. As a camboy and a viewer. As cohabiting boyfriends. As grooms at an altar. As a swimmer, and a boy on fire. There was every iteration of enemies, friends, lovers, but the one thing obvious in each universe was they were always together.

Even bit his lip and tried to think of something to say. Anything to fill the excruciating silence as Isak simply stared at the illustrations in front of him.

Finally. _Finally_. He spoke.

‘Where’s this one?’

That was the one thing Even didn’t draw. These were all the parallel universes he could account for, but he didn’t dare commit to paper _this_ universe.

Isak looked up at him and repeated his question as his hands dropped to his sides and he placed the paper on his desk. ‘Where’s this one?’

The breath Even tried to take in caught in his throat. ‘I didn’t want to draw it.’

‘Why not?’

Isak questioned him with calm reserve. No judgment or anger.

‘Because,’ Even began, ‘as much as I’ve dared to hope… I couldn’t ignore the statistical possibility that this is the universe where we’re not together. I just wanted to show you that…I think there’s a parallel universe where we’re together, forever. I think that’s most of them, actually. And that’s been my consolation.’

 _This is it_ , he thought. _This is it. Now. You have to see this through to the end. Fucking tell him._

Isak’s face was inscrutable, slack in something between disbelief and awe.

Even took his chance. ‘I— I’ve been working so hard to earn everyone’s forgiveness and trust back. Honestly, that’s been enough for me. I missed everyone. I missed being a good friend. And having everyone back has been the best fucking birthday gift. Most of all, having your forgiveness.’

The smile that spread across Isak’s face made a fire bloom under Even’s ribs. He leaned forward, and placed a hand on Isak’s waist, gently. Not pulling him in, just reassuring himself. Isak instinctively placed his hand on Even’s upper arm.

‘I’m not going to dress up the truth,’ Even admitted, ‘being your friend is enough. More than enough. It’s a fucking privilege after how I acted.’

He reached his other hand forward, then, putting it on the other side of Isak’s waist, and slowly stepped forward.

‘But…’ he said, keeping his eyes fixed on Isak’s chest, ‘I can’t lie about the fact that I have feelings for you. I always have. I… I still want you.’

It was so much easier to talk about this without seeing Isak’s face, but Even could feel him tense, right before he placed both of his hands on Even’s arms and leaned into him.

Their faces were so close, Even could feel Isak’s breath on his cheek. He made no move, waiting for Isak to respond, now he had cracked open his chest, vulnerable and exposed.

Then he couldn’t help himself but explain more: ‘I’ll probably always want you in some way. And I’ve grown past the self-indulgent masochism of believing that I’m doomed to be alone. But we can’t ignore the fact that … I have bipolar disorder. And if you were to take a chance on me—though I would not ever think of you differently if you didn’t—but if you were, it wouldn’t be easy.’

He closed his eyes, and gently glanced the tip of his nose off Isak’s.

‘It might not be worth it, in the end,’ he whispered, ‘But…but I’m saying all of this with the tentative belief that, it might be. It might be worth it.’

‘Even,’ Isak replied. And the way he said it—with such affection, such longing—made Even grasp two fistfuls of Isak’s tshirt, and open his eyes.

‘Even,’ Isak repeated. ‘it is. It is worth it.’

\--

And finally— _finally—_ Even listened to all of his instincts, and breathed out a rushed sigh of relief, as he moved forward and at last tasted Isak’s lips against his own in a tender, tender, tender kiss.

Isak opened up to him immediately, his tongue softly curling around Even’s lips, along with the gentle tug from his teeth. It was so loving, so maddening, Even felt his heartbeat in his _fingertips_.

His fingertips, which were now—of course—caressing Isak’s hair, as Isak held one hand to Even’s face, the other on his waist. He was touching Even’s cheek as he kissed him, and circling his thumb around Even’s hip, under his clothes. Even’s mind circled around these bare facts, barely able to contain himself in combined excitement and tumbling relief.

Even was out of breath already, unravelling completely under Isak’s touch. The confident press and pull of his lips, the heat of his breath, the small sounds he made between kisses—it was enough to drive Even to distraction.

He couldn’t get enough, wouldn’t get enough. His blood was singing Isak’s name.

The simple fact was, every second he started to relax into the thrilling release of having Isak’s mouth kissing inevitable truths into his own, he remembered _he was kissing Isak_ and would have to calm himself down all over again.

‘Even, breathe,’ Isak said at last. ‘I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.’

Unable to burst out the three words he was dying to say, Even scattered around his brain for something else to reassure Isak how much he felt. Then, it came to him.

‘You know what my Instagram password is?’ Even said, his heart in his throat.

Isak shook his head, and glanced his nose off of Even’s in a tiny gesture of affection.

‘It’s your name,’ Even whispered. ‘That’s how Mikael knew how to hack my account. My password is your name.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Norwegian used:
> 
> skitt skjer -- Shit happens
> 
> vors -- actually a German word, co-opted into Norwegian. The before-party, usually complete with snus and bad beer.
> 
> ikke noe -- Nothing
> 
>  
> 
> The Norwegian birthday song:
> 
> Hurra for deg som fyller ditt år!  
> Ja, deg vil vi gratulere!  
> Alle i ring omkring deg vi står,  
> og se, nå vil vi marsjere,  
> bukke, nikke, neie, snu oss omkring,  
> danse for deg med hopp og sprett og spring,  
> ønske deg av hjertet alle gode ting!  
> Og si meg så, hva vil du mere?  
> Gratulere!
> 
> Hurray for you for celebrating your birthday!  
> Yes, we congratulate you!  
> We all stand around you in a ring,  
> And look, now we’ll march,  
> Bow, nod, curtsy, we turn around,  
> Dance for you and hop and skip and jump!  
> Wishing you from the heart all good things!  
> And tell me, what more could you want?  
> Congratulations!
> 
> \--
> 
> Be warned, the next chapter gets explicit. (side eye emoji)
> 
> LMK if you felt anything reading this <3 Hope you enjoyed it.


	18. A safe assumption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even joins 'Hei Briskeby,' and gets a surprise phone call when Isak gets a surprise voicemail. Featuring some arguments, a hiking accident, FaceTime sleeping, breakfast in bed, miscommunication, misunderstanding, and missing each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit scenes cordoned off with *** as usual. Brief moment of subspace, but blink and you miss it. If I've missed any CW please let me know <3
> 
> Thank you all for reading. I hope this makes you feel something <3

Two weeks later

 

‘ _Okay._ We've got a special guest today,’ Elias said, grinning widely directly into the camera.

‘ _Hvem er det?_ ’ asked Mikael, followed soon by Adam, too, ‘Who is that?’

On the couch sat Elias, Yousef, Adam, and Mutta, while Mikael sat on Mahdi’s lap in the armchair next to it.

Even was standing behind a camera in the Bakkoush living room, watching his six friends try and hype up his imminent appearance on their _Hei Briskeby_ live stream.  

It was a lovely feeling, to have this. A room full of friends who asked him specially to join in their pet project. It was special, too, to see Mikael so happy as they subconsciously intertwined their fingers with Mahdi’s. Unbeknownst to them, as they did so, Mahdi looked up at their face with unconditional contentment.

With a gleeful clap of his hands, Elias said, ‘ _…Are you ready?_ ’ 

For a moment, Even looked at his friends and wondered how he was lucky enough to have gotten this far. With that thought, he jumped into frame, giving Elias, Adam and Yousef a bear hug.

 _‘Ja!_ As you can see, we have the one and only Even back!’ Elias yelled happily to the camera, as Mahdi and Mikael shrieked ‘HYPE!’ at each other, and Mutta fake-cried as part of his performance.

Seeing this, Even let out a surprised laugh, and crawled over their laps and wrapped himself in Mutta’s arms.

‘Hey, careful,’ Elias joked, ‘Isak might watch this.’

Mahdi immediately cut in with a dry rejoinder, ‘I can guarantee he’s watching this; the boy is whipped.’

‘You’re one to talk!’ Adam said. Meanwhile, Mikael blushed and pulled Mahdi’s arms tighter around themselves, whispering something undoubtedly sappy in his ear. Mahdi grinned widely in response.

Yousef waved off the noise of his friends and turned to Even—‘How are you and Isak, man?’

Even smiled to himself, and thought back to his birthday party two weeks prior.

\--

 

 

> _‘You know what my Instagram password is?’ Even said, his heart in his throat._
> 
> _Isak shook his head, and glanced his nose off of Even’s in a tiny gesture of affection._
> 
> _‘It’s your name,’ Even whispered. ‘That’s how Mikael knew how to hack my account. My password is your name.’_
> 
> ‘Even,’ Isak moaned, bringing him in for another kiss.
> 
> Even wasn’t sure how long they’d spent in Isak’s room, just breathing each other in. Eventually, he had to reassure himself if it was real, if Isak really meant it, if he was sure.
> 
> ‘Of course I’m sure. Besides,’ Isak said with a grin, ‘the sex was fucking spectacular. Are you always that good, or was it mostly the mania? Because I feel like I should know that in advance.’
> 
> Even huffed. ‘I think it was mostly how desperate I was for you. Still am … But … I know it’s a lot, that it might be hard for you to tell what my real feelings are from my manic impulses—’
> 
> Isak waved him off. ‘Even. It wasn’t like you weren’t shamelessly flirting with me before your episode. So I was pretty confident you were desperate for my dick long before then.’
> 
> ‘A safe assumption,’ Even mumbled.
> 
> Isak stopped and kissed Even’s forehead. It felt like a promise. _I’m here. I may seem light-hearted, but I’m serious about us. I care about this._ It was hard not to be humbled by it.
> 
> ‘This is a part of you,’ Isak said quietly, ‘But it’s not all of you. It’s not even close. You need to stop believing deep down that it’s a dealbreaker.’ 
> 
> He left a pause for Even to really hear him. Even loved that.
> 
> Then, Isak barrelled on: ‘The dealbreaker is sharing nudes on the internet that should only be sent to me.’
> 
> Even laughed, incredulous, and let his own smile mirror the wide grin on Isak’s face. Leaning in, and dropping a small kiss to Even’s cheek, Isak said, ‘There’s the man I fell for.’
> 
> Even’s jaw dropped. Though his smile wavered, the look in Isak’s eyes was determined as he continued, ‘Yeah, I said it.’
> 
> Staring in disbelief, Even only managed to say, ‘Holy shit.’
> 
> ‘No, that’s what I said when I saw your nudes. Like, fuck, you were not kidding about the framing. It was so good.’
> 
> Even rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help his smile.
> 
> ‘That, and, you know,’ Isak said, not even trying to suppress the smirk on his face, ‘your subject matter lends itself to being aesthetically pleasing.’
> 
> Startled by Isak’s forwardness, he barked out a laugh, while Isak smugly added, ‘Even when it’s just at half-mast.’
> 
> Clutching his stomach, Even doubled over, helplessly victim to a laughing fit as Isak’s smile brightened the room.
> 
> The rest of that evening, Even orbited Isak like a moon, trying always to get nearer, letting gravity push them closer at all times. Isak couldn’t keep his eyes off of him when they eventually got back to the living room; or his hands off of him when they finally got back to the bedroom. Isak especially appreciated Even’s beard, and what marks it left on his thighs. He had insisted Even keep it since.
> 
> That night—in between warm sheets and short breaths and tender caresses—Even apologised again for everything he’d done. Isak silenced him with a kiss. He admitted his own guilt in using Emma as a safety net, while Even tried to assuage it. They only stopped when Isak pressed his lips to Even’s collarbone and, for the first time, uttered the words Even had longed to hear. _Jeg elsker deg._
> 
> He still couldn’t quite fathom it, weeks later.
> 
> Then on Valentine’s Day, just a few days after, Even insisted on taking the boat out to Hovedøya and having a picnic on the beach, despite the freezing cold. It just gave him an excuse to cuddle Isak in the one-man tent he’d brought with them, anyway. When they got the boat back that night, Even slipped his hand into Isak’s while the biting salty air whipped past them, and he whispered his real fear that all of it wouldn’t last. Isak wasn’t angry, or disappointed. He just kissed him, and said, ‘We can take this totally chill. _Minutt for minutt_ , okay?’
> 
> What followed from that enchanted week, was the beautiful series of the everyday—which now included picking Isak up from school every morning, plying him with touches and coffee until his grumpiness gave way to smiles, hanging out with Jonas, Magnus and Mahdi as well as the girls at lunchtime, seeing the Bakka squad on the weekend, learning how to play the guitar so he could play something for Isak on his birthday (because yes, Even already had a plan for it), and after all that, just slowly, impatiently, waiting to move his life on to the next step after graduation.

\--

Even smiled to himself. _Isak_. Might as well give him a show if he was watching.

With that thought in mind, Even sprawled further on Mutta’s lap, tightened his hold, and said, ‘Isak knows how I feel about Mutasim.’

With a chuckle, Mutta raised both his legs to wrap around Even’s waist. ‘I don’t know man,’ he said seductively, ‘does he know about this?’

To emphasise his point, he crossed his ankles behind Even’s legs.

Elias and Yousef started laughing while Adam, Mahdi and Mikael shouted, ‘No homo! _No homo!_ ’

‘Ok, ok,’ Yousef conceded at last, batting at Mutta, ‘we’re here for a reason, and it’s not to flirt with Even.’

‘Speak for yourself,’ Mutta muttered, stroking Even’s cheek while biting his lip at the camera.

Even, caught up in the ridiculous performance, preened for Mutta and winked at the camera, too. He wondered how Isak would react. Would he be jealous? Would he be turned on? Even had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, and he was curious if Isak had anything similar.

Before he could get too distracted from the goal of the live stream, Elias started to hand out paper and pens and offer instructions:

‘Ok people, today we’re playing the Best Friend Challenge. Each person draws a question from this bowl and everyone else has to write down the right answer. The loser gets … a nipple twist.’  

‘Fy faen,’ Even said, ‘that’s a bit harsh for a wrong answer, man.’

‘Are your nips sensitive, Even?’ Mahdi asked with a grin. ‘Or rather… just overworked?’

Adam and Mutta cackled in response while Elias and Yousef looked awkwardly between Even and Mahdi. Mikael took out their phone and mischievously said, ‘I’m gonna text Isak about this.’

‘You will do no such thing!’ Even protested.

‘Sounds like a yes to me,’ Mahdi said, smug.

‘Alright, for harassing our guest, you’re drawing the first question,’ Elias said, thrusting the bowl at Mahdi, who reached into the bowl with one eyebrow raised in scorn. But, when he unfolded the small prompt, his face fell.

Mikael sneaked a peek around his arm and, as soon as they read the question, burst out laughing.

‘What is it?’ Yousef asked.

‘ _Who was the last person you sent a nude to_?’ Mikael answered, through giggles, while Mahdi rolled his eyes and hid his face in the nape of Mikael’s neck.

Adam and Elias immediately started to crow delightedly at Mahdi’s discomfort. It wasn’t often that Mahdi was embarrassed, but it was clear that the question hit home.

‘I’m guessing from your response that the answer is pretty clear, so not much point in us writing anything down,’ Mutta said, trying his best to suppress a grin. ‘Does this mean Mahdi gets a nipple twist? What are the rules here?’

‘Thoughts, Mikael?’ Adam asked over Mutta’s suggestions. ‘How is your man’s composition? The lighting? Was it a before or after shot?’

Mikael raised two thumbs up. ‘Great work. Best I’ve seen.’

Torn between slight humiliation and pride, Mahdi slipped Mikael a shy smile and kiss on the cheek. He then whispered something in their ear, and Mikael fell back on his chest with a dopey smile on their face.

Even was so pleased for them, and wondered if that was what he and Isak looked like to other people. Then he remembered something:

‘Hey Mahdi,’ he said, suddenly. ‘When did you start working out with these losers?’

Mahdi took a second to consider the question. ‘Uh, I guess, October or November sometime? Why?’

‘I just realised something. It’s probably not a coincidence you met them at the gym, is it?’

The Bakka kids each looked at Even curiously. ‘What do you mean?’ Elias asked.

‘I mean,’ Even continued, seeing the emerging embarrassment back on Mahdi’s face, ‘Mahdi always went to the gym near his place in Frogner. I had wondered why he suddenly started trekking across town to the gym in Tøyen. Mystery solved.’

‘Wait,’ Mikael said, turning to look at Mahdi. ‘You—you switched gyms? For me?’

Mahdi’s guilty look spoke volumes.

‘ _Herregud_!’ Elias shrieked, as Adam and Mutta bounced up and down on the sofa and laughed at the revelation.

Just as Even was about to rib Mahdi more for his blatant crush, his phone began to ring.

‘Oh, sorry,’ Even said, rising from the couch, looking at the caller ID.

Isak.

‘Loverboy is calling!’ Mutta yelled. Even left the room of guffaws and cheers in favour of the silent hallway.

Taking the call, Even let out a warm sigh as he said, ‘Halla, baby.’

‘Hei,’ Isak said, his voice short.

‘Is everything ok?’ Even asked, immediately on edge at Isak’s tone.

‘Uhm. I—I don’t—it’s not—there’s nothing urgent. Well. No. Everything isn’t ok,’ he rushed out in halting certainty. ‘I just—are you free? Can you come here? I’m at home.’

‘Of course,’ Even said. ‘What’s wrong? Are you alright?’

‘Mama is coming out of Gaustad,’ Isak said. His tone gave no indication of how he felt about it. Even surmised he was in shock, still.

‘Ok, baby,’ he said, in as gentle and reassuring a voice as he could. ‘I’m just in Briskeby. I’ll be there in half an hour. Is Eskild at home?’

‘No,’ Isak whispered. ‘He’s at work. I—I wouldn’t interrupt your time otherwise, I’m sorry.’

‘You have nothing to apologise for,’ Even said, as he hurriedly pulled on his shoes. ‘I’m glad you called. I’m just gonna get the tram to Central and the bus to Møllerveien. Do you want me to get you some pizza from the Today Grill?’

‘ _Faen_ ,’ Isak said, his voice breaking a bit. ‘You don’t—I feel bad—’

‘I want to. I like taking care of you. Especially when you ask me to help. I’m just about to leave, I just have to tell the others that I’m heading out. But I’ll be there in half an hour, alright? And listen, can you do something for me while you wait?’

Isak breathed heavily into the phone. ‘Ok.’

‘Will you make yourself some tea? Just boil the water in a pan on the hob like I showed you last time. I left a box of chamomile and honey tea on your shelf. Just make yourself a cup and put extra honey in it. Then bring it to bed, sit under the duvet, and I’ll be there by the time you’re done. OK?’

‘Ok,’ Isak repeated. ‘Even?’

‘ _Ja_?’

‘ _Jeg elsker deg_.’

Even’s heart swelled again. ‘ _Jeg elsker deg også._ ’

\--

When Even buzzed Isak’s flat, the gate opened immediately. _Not in bed, then._

He leapt up the steps to Isak’s door, balancing the pepperoni pizza in his left hand. He didn’t get as far as knocking, because Isak opened the door as soon as Even had cleared the landing.

‘Hei,’ Even said, short of breath.

‘Hei,’ Isak replied, his eyes drawn to the box. At that, he gave a small smile. ‘You brought pizza.’

‘Of course,’ Even said, extending his other arm around Isak’s shoulders, and kissing him gently on the forehead. ‘Anything for you.’

To Even’s shock, those words were met with a sudden reaction from Isak, who trembled in his arms. ‘Hey,’ he said soothingly into Isak’s hair, ‘Relax. I’ve got you. I’ve got you, love.’

\--

After letting Isak eat the entire pizza (though to his credit he did offer at least one slice), Even made another cup of tea for him—the first having gone cold on Isak’s bedside cabinet—and then shuffled Isak into bed and cocooned him in blankets.

‘Alright, baby,’ Even said, sitting against the wall, holding Isak between his legs, and wrapping his arms around his waist. ‘Tell me everything.’

Isak lay back against Even’s chest, his head dropped on Even’s shoulder. He let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. Without wanting to push, Even placed a few gentle kisses on his temple, his cheek, his jaw.

‘My Dad called,’ Isak began. ‘But I had my phone on silent while I was studying so I didn’t hear it. So he left a voicemail.’

Sensing that Isak needed time to get all of his thoughts out, Even stayed silent.

‘You know I’ve been going to visit mama in Gaustad every week since November or so. And…it’s been … weird. It’s a good facility, she’s well looked after and all that. I just—I feel like she was put in there as a last ditch effort, you know? Which I also know is the guilt talking.’

Even stroked both hands across Isak’s belly in as comforting gesture as he could summon. It seemed to work, as Isak let out another long breath. As reward, Even gave him a small kiss behind his ear. Needing the touch, Isak laced his own hands along Even’s.

‘But … apparently she’s improved a lot since I started visiting. Like—she said she’s more motivated now to improve. And the doctors say that that’s made all the difference.  So, they rang papa yesterday and said that considering her prognosis and everything, she could move home again if she wanted to. And she does. Want to.’

Tightening his hold on Isak, Even whispered out a small encouragement. He tried to resist the urge to bury his nose in Isak’s hair and close his eyes. Suddenly he wasn’t sure if he was comforting Isak or if Isak was comforting him.

‘And he – he told me that they’re gonna move her home next week. And that they want … they want me to move home, too.’

Even nodded, knowing Isak could feel the movement against the nape of his neck. ‘That’s great, love. How do you feel about it?’

Silence.

Even didn’t want to push. He knew Isak can take a lot of time to get his feelings out the way he wants them to. It’s still something he gauges and reassesses every time they’re together, the fact that they operate so differently when it comes to feelings. But he had a pretty good idea what was going on with Isak right then: He didn’t want to move home because he’d already got a home in the kollektiv, and he couldn’t be guaranteed that everything would be normal if he moved back in with his parents. What if his mama had another episode like she did in his first year? What if his papa leaves again? It was all too fragile to risk.

Even knew he’d have to try his best to assuage Isak’s conflicted feelings about it. He knew he’d have to remind him how strong he was, how smart he was to prioritise himself, how whatever decision he came to, Even would support him.

To Even’s surprise, however, Isak was still silent. And avoiding Even’s eye contact. Even wasn’t sure if it was shame, or worry, but either way, he kissed behind Isak’s ear again in reassurance.

Isak squeezed his hands, in a gesture that seemed to say, _Pause_. _I need a minute_. So Even backed off a little, waited for Isak to speak.

‘My lease at the kollektiv is up at the end of May,’ he said at last. ‘So…’

Even nodded against Isak’s shoulder, stroked his thumbs against Isak’s ribs, while Isak fell silent again.

‘Ok,’ Even prompted. ‘So you’re thinking about not renewing it?’

‘Yeah,’ Isak said, quietly. ‘I know it’s soon, but I think… I think it’s time to … make the next step. What—what do you think?’

Isak seemed tense, as if worried about Even’s answer. Though he wasn’t sure why, Even assumed Isak’s halting explanations were all part of the shock from Terje’s voicemail. And though Even was a little surprised that Isak was this sure about moving back into a house with so much history, and so much uncertainty, he wanted to give Isak his full support.

‘Ok,’ Even said simply. ‘Trust your gut on this. I’m with you either way.’

Isak fell silent again, processing Even’s words. Even wondered again if he had missed something. After a moment, Isak closed his eyes.

‘Are you alright, love?’ Even asked, holding Isak closer to his chest, letting his lips skim over Isak’s neck and shoulder.

Immediately Isak nodded his head, quickly saying, ‘Yeah. Yeah I’m fine.’

‘I could help you move if you want,’ Even offered. ‘I can rent us a van and help box your stuff up and drive you there myself? And I’ll only charge you two blowjobs. You have to admit, that’s a steal.’

Isak stiffened again.

All at once, Even realised something glaringly obvious, and felt terrible for assuming Isak would be out to his parents.

‘Oh—I mean,’ Even continued, ‘Of course I—I didn’t mean… if you haven’t told your parents about me, or if they don’t know you’re … I’m not going to impose myself like that—’

Isak shook his head and gave Even a small, barely-there smile. ‘Of course they know about you, loser.’

‘Loser?’ Even repeated in faux indignation. ‘That’s some way to express gratitude when I’m going to help you move all your shit.’

‘No, no,’ Isak said, ‘You don’t get it. I’m not moving home.’

Blindsided by this sudden change, Even fell quiet for a moment. ‘But—you just said—’

‘Forget what I said,’ Isak mumbled. ‘It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t make sense to move out of the kollektiv and back into a house with so much history, especially when we don’t know how mama is going to readjust, or how papa is going to deal with it. That’s not why I got weird just now.’

‘…Ok?’ Even prompted, still utterly lost.

‘My parents know about you,’ Isak said, slowly. ‘And yeah, it was weird for them at first. They said some off-colour things when I came out. But I think the fact that I’m in a happy long-term relationship makes it easier for them to understand that I’m really, truly, gay. You know? It’s not an abstraction when there’s a real live flesh-and-blood man involved with your son.’

‘I don’t know why but that turned me on a little,’ Even admitted.

He waited for the huff of laughter or the small smile to come, but they never did. Thrown again by Isak’s reactions, Even waited for him to continue.

‘I—I haven’t brought this up before,’ Isak said, ‘but… it feels weird that I still haven’t really met your family. Except Astrid, the night you had your episode. And that wasn’t the best first impression.’

Even stilled.

He wanted to bring Isak home to his parents. Of _course_ he did. He wanted to show Isak off to literally every single person he met every day. Sometimes it felt like his heart would jump right out of his throat and start yelling of its own volition how completely in love he was with this beautiful, kind, funny, sharp, intelligent boy.

But—though his parents were a lot more understanding and working hard since his diagnosis to be more informed—he was apprehensive about getting Isak involved in the complex new dynamics between him and his family. He didn’t want to put Isak in the strange malaise of family politics and make him feel targeted. And no small part of him was worried that once Isak meet his family, it would somehow portend an immediate breakup. Like Isak would see through Even in a way he didn’t before.

‘I—I didn’t know you wanted to,’ Even replied at last. It wasn’t a real reply. But he didn’t know how to answer Isak’s suggestion.

‘I do,’ Isak said quietly. ‘And I want you to meet mine.’

‘You do?’ Even asked, shocked. Every time he thought he had a handle on what happened in Isak’s head, he was proven utterly wrong.

‘Yeah,’ Isak said again, holding Even’s hands closer across his chest. He turned his head on Even’s shoulder to seek out his lips with his own.

At first he kissed him with just the softest caress of lips on lips. But as always, Even found it hard to hold himself back, and he moved his tongue out to gently touch and taste.

The thought that Isak wanted Even so integrated in his life… Even was surprised at how much it turned him on. His arousal was so sudden and so consuming that he felt almost embarrassed at how hard he was already getting.

Isak raised a hand to grasp the back of Even’s neck and draw him closer, humming into his mouth and moving his feet a little back and forth on the bedsheet.

‘Baby,’ Even murmured, as he kissed Isak again, heavy and wet, as his right hand dipped just beneath Isak’s waistband, touching his happy trail, never moving lower.

Isak moaned a little in response, kissing Even back with teeth grazing his bottom lip. It was enough to send a shock up Even’s spine and make heat pool further in his groin.

Without thinking, he shifted his feet so they were planted on the bed on the inside of Isak’s ankles. Then, Even widened his legs so that he pulled Isak’s legs wider apart, too.

Isak gasped a little at the movement and looked down at the open V their legs made on the bed. ‘Even?’ he asked, his voice low and interested.

Encouraged by this, Even dipped his right hand further beneath Isak’s waistband and kissed behind his ear. Then moved Isak’s legs wider again.

‘Relax, baby. I’ve got you,’ he whispered, as he brought Isak to the peak of pleasure between his legs, again and again and again.

\--

Isak didn’t move home.

He made a compromise with his parents to visit every weekend, even though he felt deeply guilty about it. He seemed reluctant to answer Even’s occasional questions about what Isak meant when he had said ‘next step’ and found ways to change the subject—usually involving some physical distraction.

Eskild was delighted when Isak renewed his lease at the kollektiv, but Even worried what he wasn’t telling him. More than once he traced Isak’s features while he was asleep, and asked aloud what he’d missed, hoping Isak’s subconscious would hear and make him blurt out the answer. But Isak slept on, slumbering through Even’s confusion and worry.

\--

Early March brought with it the deadline for applying to Stockholm and Copenhagen for university, and Even had never really considered applying to them. As much as he would like living in Sweden or Denmark in theory, he knew the practical obstacles would not be worth it.

Apart from the obvious benefits of not having to pay for his accommodation if he studied in UiO, and being able to stick to his routine of counselling and meds, it meant he didn’t have to sacrifice his relationship. The best thing in his life right now.

It should never have been cause for an argument, as far as Even was concerned. But the day before the deadline, Isak met Even for a coffee in Uranienborgparken after school and asked if he was applying to Copenhagen and Stockholm. When Even looked askance at him in bafflement, and uttered an amused ‘No?’, Isak’s face twisted into a frown.

‘You’ve only applied to UiO?’ Isak said.

‘Yeah, I want to stay in Oslo,’ Even explained. He gave Isak the full list of reasons, too, and dwelled happily on the best one. But Isak’s face darkened further.

‘Even… I feel like you haven’t put a lot of thought into your options,’ Isak said, failing to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

The accusation stung. Not least because it was kind of true. But Even was confident in his decision. If he wanted to move out of Oslo he could do it after he finished his BA. He could take an exchange semester before that if needs be. It wasn’t all-or-nothing.

‘But I want to stay in Oslo,’ Even repeated, still reeling a little from Isak’s tone.

Isak sighed, exasperated. ‘Sure, but the world is much bigger than the city you grew up in. Aren’t you even a little bit curious about the other places you could go?’

‘Yeah, but not for university? I can visit Denmark anytime.’

‘Not just Denmark, Even,’ Isak said, ‘anywhere. Like, literally anywhere. This is the time for you to think big. I don’t understand why you’re limiting yourself to Norway? In practical terms, I mean. Like—I feel like you just decided that your routine and your relationship take precedence over your opportunities and— it’s not— I don’t know if they should.’

‘Are you saying you want me to give up my routine and my relationship for the sake of living in another place for a few years?’ Even asked, bewildered.

‘No, not “for the sake of it,” but because you’ve carefully thought about all your options. You know what I’m saying? Like, why limit yourself to the BA in Media Studies in UiO if there’s a film design or directing course in a university somewhere else that you would like more, and would be more suited to you, and give you more advancement in your career?’

‘Isak, I repeated my third year. This is not the time for me to start angling for career advancement,’ Even replied dryly.

‘Yes it is!’ Isak bit back. ‘Stop doing that—stop underestimating yourself. You deserve so much better than that.’

‘I deserve to go for the things I want,’ Even said carefully.

‘ _Exactly!_ ’ Isak said, triumphant.

‘Ok,’ Even replied, ‘well in this case, the things I want are: to ensure the stability of my routine in Oslo; to commit to the relationship I have which also happens to be in Oslo; and to take the Media Studies course in the University of Oslo.’

Isak groaned in frustration. ‘You say that but—’

Waiting for Isak to continue, Even stayed silent. When it became clear that Isak had cut himself off but wasn’t going to elaborate, Even raised his hands. ‘But what? _What_ , Isak?’

‘Nothing,’ Isak said, ‘I just mean—you say you want those things but you could have them if you weren’t here, too. You could set up a new routine wherever you lived. You could find a new counsellor. You could sustain this relationship. And you could pursue a great course while you did all of that.’

‘Agreed,’ Even replied, ‘what if I have no desire to move somewhere else and make all those concessions and change? Which, by the way, I don’t.’

Isak groaned again. ‘Even! You haven’t even _thought_ about it!’

\--

The argument circled the same way, each time they had it, until one or both of them tired from it, and changed the subject.

Even missed the deadline for applying to Stockholm and Copenhagen.

Isak gave him the silent treatment for a week, until begrudgingly showing up at Even’s bedroom window at midnight with a bouquet of flowers and a few cans of Tuborg as apology.

They still circled the same argument every time it came up, never getting anywhere.

A particularly heated one began as the deadline for Trondheim and Malmö neared in late March, but before Even could retort at Isak’s latest list of reasons, his phone rang shrilly on Isak’s bed.

When he picked it up, his mama was frantic was on the other end.

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked at once, looking to Isak with unmasked fear in his eyes. Isak, instantly setting aside his frustration about their argument, walked over to him and reached a soothing hand out to his arm.

Even’s mama explained that Astrid had just called from the hospital in Bergen. Her husband Jørgen had just had a hiking accident. Something about broken ribs, internal bleeding, emergency helicopter.

Even’s blood ran cold. His thoughts flew at once to the kids.

_Sigve. Ingrid._

His mama told him to come home at once, and pack. They were getting on a flight to Bergen in two hours.

When he hung up, Even knew Isak had heard most of what his mama had said. Isak pulled Even into his arms and smoothed his hands up and down his back, murmuring apologies. None of it felt real.

‘It—I don’t—’ Even stuttered out.

‘You need to go,’ Isak said, without judgement or fear. ‘Your sister needs you. It’s going to be ok. I’ll be here when you get back.’

He apologised to Isak over and over again, before kissing him quickly, and running home.

\--

Even spent three weeks in Bergen.

\--

It all felt so quick, so rushed, the journey from the kollektiv to his house to the airport to the hospital was all a blur. And the three weeks that followed were a strange routine of babysitting, hospital visits, late night FaceTime calls with Isak, and homework squeezed in between all of those.

Jørgen had suffered a bad fall on a particularly notorious slope on Ulriken, but after week one, he was out of the ICU and back in a normal ward. Even and his parents stayed to take care of Astrid as much as of Sigve and Ingrid, though she rarely left the hospital for longer than a night.

His mama cooked enough food to feed them for weeks, while his papa spent most of his time inspecting the house and finding shelves to fix, paintings to hang, gutters to clear.

Even found himself distracting the kids from the adults’ worried faces, teaching Sigve how to whistle, and Ingrid how to play the harmonica.

They taught him how to finger paint, and how to sneak into the attic to look for bats (there weren’t any, but Sigve was determined).

Even was in contact with his teachers every day, making sure to keep on top of exam revision and homework. More often than not he ended up trying to multitask the impromptu babysitting (i.e. bat-seeking) while learning off English vocabulary by rote.

\--

Mikael checked in every morning, separate from the busy Bakka groupchat, which was also overly vocal in its support of Even. He appreciated the frequent encouragement, but it all felt disconnected from him when he was seven hours away by car.

But hardest of all was trying to talk to Isak. Not because he missed him—though he did, terribly—but because he still felt like Isak was holding back, like he was careful not to tell Even too much.

And after long days of checking in at the hospital, looking after the kids, and doing homework, the last thing he wanted to do was start a difficult conversation on FaceTime.

So they kept it light.

And every night when Even let the tiredness overtake him, Isak kept the call on, watching his face until he, too, fell asleep.

More than once, Even woke up and realised their FaceTime call was still running. But he could never hang up. Not when he could hear the soft sounds Isak made in his sleep. Not when this was as close as he could feel.

\--

On the third week Jørgen began physical therapy.

The initial terror was long over, but suddenly Astrid was faced with helping a husband recuperate while taking care of two young children and trying to meet all her part time shifts.

\--

Three weeks in Bergen in early spring proved that Even had no interest in going long-distance. It was harder than he wanted to admit to live without Isak’s presence.

And though he was surrounded by family, he missed having a strong group of friends nearby. He dreaded the thought of having to set up a new social circle from scratch in some foreign place. And what would happen if Isak found someone else?

The thought poisoned Even’s perception of moving away. Applying to university outside of Oslo was tantamount to a guarantee that he would be throwing away everything he valued most.

He knew on some level that he was being reductive. But the fact remained that it had been _weeks_ since he felt at home. Home, he realised, had become the space encompassed by Isak’s arms.

\--

In week three, Even’s parents insisted he fly back to Oslo to get back to school while they helped Astrid transition.

Even presented no opposition, only checked he couldn’t be any more help before eagerly booking flights back home.

The forty eight hours between printing his boarding pass and getting on the plane passed by, even though it felt like they would never pass. He checked his phone with painful frequency, hoping he could _wish_ the time faster. It was ironic, feeling like time was slowing down to spite him, even while he felt he’d barely blinked between getting the phone call, and spending two weeks in a city on the other side of the country.

\--

Forty-four hours.

Isak sent a string of hearts when Even forwarded the email with his flight details.

\--

Forty hours.

The Bakka groupchat asked for another live stream with Even the next week. Mikael tried to add Mahdi but Adam and Mutta protested bringing in any Nissen students: it broke the code. Mikael added him anyway.

\--

Thirty-six hours.

Isak was snoring in his sleep again. Even kind of wanted to cry.

\--

Twenty-eight hours.

A Facebook message from Noora invited Even to her birthday party the Saturday after he got back. He gladly accepted, texted Eva asking what kind of drink he could bring that Noora would like.

\--

Twenty-four hours.

Even asked Isak if he’d ever watched the anime _Yuri!!! On Ice_. Isak rolled his eyes.  ‘Anime? Seriously, Even?’

\--

Twenty-three hours.

‘Ok, I watched the first episode and it was pretty good.’

‘By which you mean you have a crush on Victor.’

‘Excuse you!’

‘Sorry. You have a crush on both of them, right?’

‘No comment.’

\--

Fifteen hours.

Isak texted him. ‘Fifteen hours, baby.’

\--

Twelve hours.

‘You were awake at 7am?? Isak Valtersen??’

‘Shut up.’

\--

Ten hours.

Even created a playlist for Isak while impatiently waiting in Astrid’s kitchen for the day to go by quicker. There was only so many times he could pack and repack and then chase Sigve and Ingrid around the garden (much as they might argue).

\--

Six hours.

Sigve and Ingrid were bored of Even’s impatience, so they dragged him to the living room and forced him to watch Frozen with them. When Ingrid asked him if he had an Anna waiting for him in Oslo, Even shook his head and smiled: ‘I’ve got a Kristoff.’

Sigve jumped up and down and shrieked. ‘Kristoff is my favourite!!’

‘Mine too,’ Even laughed.

\--

Two hours.

The runway was blurred through the rain pouring down the window. Even put his phone on airplane mode, turned on his playlist and closed his eyes.

\--

Now

He was nearly home, walking through Gardemoen airport in mid April, already decided that he was going to fork out for the express train to Central Station rather than the local service. It was 10pm, and he was drained.

Now, back to real life.

On the train, he sent a text to Isak to tell him he was in Oslo again, heading back to his parents’ house. He was a little nervous when Isak immediately replied, ‘If you want me to come over, I will, but I’ll understand if you want to sleep first.’

Even couldn’t help himself. As soon as he got to the house, he called a cab to pick Isak up, texted him to let him know, and left the front door open.

He couldn’t help falling asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow, either.

\--

When he woke up a few hours later, he found Isak pressed up against his back, right arm twined around his waist, hand spread across his ribs.

He wanted to turn around, kiss Isak for the first time in what felt like an eternity, but he could feel how deeply Isak was breathing against the back of his neck, and he didn’t want to risk waking him. That, and he felt in his bones how true it was that he was home.

\--

When he woke up properly the next morning, Isak was not in the bed.

Even was startled, wondering if he’d dreamt being next to him all night, but when he turned around, he saw the creases in the duvet and sheet next to him. His pillow smelled of Isak, too.

Before he could get out of bed to find him, Isak entered the room quietly, holding a tray. On it were two cups of coffee, and a plate of stacked toast with marmalade on it.

Even’s heart burst again.

Upon seeing Even awake, Isak raised his eyebrows and broke into a wide smile. ‘ _Morgen, kjære_.’

He set the tray down on the bed just as Even leapt out of it, running to Isak and kissing him full on the mouth.

‘I missed you. I missed you so much,’ he said, kissing Isak before he could respond. ‘I know it’s only been three weeks, but I really fucking missed you.’

Isak laughed softly and wrapped his arms around Even’s waist. ‘I missed you too. But wow, you know I’ve been here for ten hours and this is the first time you’ve been _awake_ in my presence.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Even said, smiling happily now Isak was so near, ‘I was exhausted. All that waiting really did a number on me.’

‘It’s amazing I’m upright, in that case,’ Isak said. The implication of Isak’s longing made Even gaze at him in the way that Isak usually rolled his eyes at. But Isak kept his gaze and then tilted his chin.

Even realised he was silently asking for a kiss. It made him weak to see Isak like that. He kissed him softly, trying to give more than take.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here,’ Even said quietly.

‘You’re here now,’ Isak replied, simply. ‘And I’m here, too.’

They kissed gently, and Even couldn’t help but try and lick the sweet taste of marmalade from Isak’s mouth. Now he was touching him again he couldn’t fathom how he’d gone three weeks without it.

 

*** *** ***

 

_‘Shit. I love you. I love you.’_

Even was on his stomach on his bed, Isak’s arms clasped lovingly around his chest, as Isak was inside him in one, smooth thrust.

When Even spent forty-five minutes rimming Isak and edging him again and again, pausing to kiss his thighs and tell him how much he loved him, he asked if Isak wanted to top. It felt like such a profoundly embarrassing question, even though he knew Isak would never shame him for it. Isak instead held Even’s face in his hands and with lovedrunk eyes asked if Even was sure.

_A ridiculous question._

Isak took his sweet time fingering Even open. At first Even thought it was retribution for all the edging, but when he unwrapped the condom for Isak, he noticed how Isak’s breathing was laboured, how he trembled slightly, and he realised Isak was nervous.

‘Baby,’ he said, holding his hand to Isak’s pulse. He could feel the artery pumping wildly fast under his thumb. ‘We don’t have to if…’

‘No,’ Isak whispered. ‘I want to. I just don’t want to hurt you.’

Even kissed him softly. Every touch they gave each other that night was soft. There was no rush, no pull, no fear. Only the longing to feel each other, to caress, to hold.

‘You won’t ever hurt me. I know it,’ Even whispered back, kissing Isak’s temples, his jaw.

Isak gave out a small whimper, and kissed Even with something akin to desperation. ‘I can’t wait to get inside you,’ he said, his voice catching on the last word. ‘I’m going to take care of you.’

Hearing the love in Isak’s voice made Even feel transparent, like his skin was too thin, and that every vessel in his body was expanding with this intimacy, the connection to the love of his life.

He kissed Isak again, made it one of the really good ones, the ones that made Isak shiver and pant. While he kissed him, he unrolled the condom on Isak’s dick, and swallowed the low moan Isak let out.

Then Even turned so he was lying flat on his stomach. Isak, seemingly unconsciously, reached out at once to caress his spine and his ass.

‘Like this?’ he asked, pulling Even’s cheeks apart.

‘Yeah,’ Even said, pressing the side of his face into the duvet. ‘Like this.’ He closed his eyes as Isak lined up and then leaned down, pressing Even into the bed.

Even loved that Isak knew to ground him, to hold him close while he slid in.

‘Shit,’ Isak groaned, ‘I love you. I _love_ you.’

The pressure, the heat, the sensations were almost too much. Even had to squeeze his eyes shut and hold his breath at the blunt and devastating feeling.

Isak tightened his hold on Even’s chest and remained entirely still. ‘Breathe,’ he said against Even’s shoulders. ‘Breathe. It’ll pass if you breathe.’

Even took in a stuttered breath and felt how it made Isak shift slightly inside him. The sensation was overwhelming. He exhaled slowly again and suddenly needed Isak to move _immediately._

‘Move, Isak, please please please—’

Isak was slow, keeping his eyes fixed on Even’s face as he ground in and pulled out. The sensations doubled and Even had to make a conscious effort to breathe.

The pressure was passing, the slight discomfort was passing, and in their wake a steady tension was building. The good kind. The kind that made Even writhe in Isak’s arms. The kind that made him break out into a sweat though he hadn’t moved. The kind that gave him euphoria.

‘Isak,’ Even moaned into the bed, ‘ _faen_ —’

Isak dropped his head to Even’s neck and kissed it. ‘I might cry. Just full disclosure,’ he said quietly.

‘ _Isak_ —’

‘I fucking love you. Even. God. I love you.’

The pleasure was heavenly, now. The feeling of Isak’s hair on his neck, the roughness of Isak’s hands on his chest, the way he seemed to know exactly what angle to push in on so that Even’s entire body lit up and his mouth dropped open in silent bliss.

He knew he was making noises Isak hadn’t heard before. He knew Isak was getting off on them, too. Isak was touching him and moaning like he couldn’t get enough.

‘That’s it,’ Isak said, kissing Even’s shoulders. ‘Fuck. Even. I’m so deep.’

He sounded so in awe of it, so delighted by Even’s body just taking him, that Even felt weak at it. Before he could understand it fully, Isak’s dick touched something inside that made Even arch his back and involuntarily roll his eyes back in his head. He heard the noise he made at it, and couldn’t even find it in himself to be embarrassed. It was ecstasy.

‘Is that the spot? Yeah?’ Isak asked, kissing behind Even’s ear. The heat of his breath there just added to Even’s pleasure.

‘Even,’ Isak moaned, ‘God I love being the only one that can do this to you.’ He punctuated his utterance with another perfectly aimed thrust.

Even whined into the sheet and pushed his ass further back onto Isak’s dick.

‘There? You need me there?’

Even whined at Isak’s words, painfully turned on by them, and again when Isak thrust with such perfect force that they both moved up the bed.

‘What my baby wants, my baby gets,’ Isak said, and Even felt how his body reacted to Isak’s voice, his words, as the rapid heat in his balls zeroed in on his pleasure point and he could hear himself making the _unh unh unh_ sounds that always preceded his orgasm.

‘Yeah I told you I’d take care of you,’ Isak said, his voice cracking, ‘You’re everything to me. Come for me, Even.’

Before he could comprehend it, Even felt himself fall over the edge as he came untouched for the first time. He fell for so long, he didn’t realise he’d grasped both of Isak’s hands in his own, and cried into the mattress, ‘ _I love you_. _I love you more than anything_.’

 

*** *** ***

 

What Even didn’t realise as he fell asleep was that Isak cried, too. What Even didn’t realise was: Isak wasn’t sure he believed Even meant it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Norwegian used
> 
> Jeg elsker deg (også) = I love you (too)  
> Morgen, kjære = Morning, darling
> 
> \--
> 
> For those of you who skipped the explicit scene--Even says he loves Isak as he's in subspace, and Isak starts to doubt, well, everything.
> 
> I know, there's some majorly unaddressed angst in this chapter. But all will be well. Isak is not as clear in communication as he thinks, and he's made some unfair assumptions that Even is oblivious to. Even meanwhile is lost as to why Isak is so insistent on applying to different universities. Some of this will be clarified next chapter. Which I hope will not take as long to write as this one... 
> 
> Many thanks as always to everyone who wrote comments and left kudos. It really helped me through a major block this week. I hope you enjoyed this <3
> 
> \--
> 
> Also, as this fic is coming to an end relatively soon, I've been struck with inspiration for two others, both in Isak POV.
> 
> A) Isak + Even Colleagues Fic: Friendship slow burn. The company where Isak and Even get their graduate jobs has strict rules that specifically forbid colleague romances. And aside from that, Even is majorly scarred from Mikael's rejection, and while Isak tries to help, he's guilty about his obvious feelings for Even, and worried that his relative inexperience would be a dealbreaker anyway. Isak is also a marathon runner, and Even goes to every one of his races. They find ways around The Rules.
> 
> B) Isak + Sana Best Buds Fic: In this universe, Jonas never met Isak before they went to Nissen. Instead, Sana has been Isak's BF since kindergarden. She coaches him through most of his problems, and invites him over to the Bakkoush house often. He knows Elias well but their friend groups are separate. Isak + Sana lose touch when they're about 13, and Sana goes to Bakka while Isak goes to Nissen. But, on a May 17 party at the end of his first year, Isak bumps into Sana again and they strike up their friendship again. Isak becomes good friends with the Bakka squad, who are dealing with the sudden absence of their friend Even. Isak learns over the summer about this mysterious friend as he becomes close with the Bakka boys: then Sana tells them Even is back in Bakka to redo his third year. Even returns to his old friends and makes amends: Isak meets him for the first time at a Hallowe'en party; Even is flirty and persistent. Eventually Isak gets the courage to ask him out: but Even stands him up. (Dun dun dun) More explained as the story expands.
> 
> I don't know if either of these prompts strike you as interesting, but if they do, please let me know! Otherwise, I hope you enjoyed this update, and I hope this week brings you something good <3
> 
> Next chapter is titled: 'Jealous much?'


	19. Jealous, much?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up from where the last one left off. I know it's been (shamefully!) three months since I last updated, so to give you a quick recap:
> 
> In the previous chapter, Even sat in on a video of Hei Briskeby but was interrupted when Isak called, shaken, because his mama is moving out of Gaustad back home and his parents asked him to move back in. He tells Even he thinks it's time for the next step -- and that's where the miscommunication begins. Not long after, Even started applying for universities around Norway and the boys get into arguments about whether or not Even should look abroad. Then, Even's brother-in-law had a bad hiking accident and the whole family flew to Bergen to help out Astrid and take care of the two kids. When Even finally returned to Oslo, he and Isak had an emotional reunion, in which Isak's doubts began to fester.
> 
> In *this* chapter, Isak struggles with insomnia, and Even tries to help. Even soon gets his first acceptance letter. When he tells Isak, he gets an unwelcome surprise. The boys go to Noora's birthday party, and Even learns something new about Isak, and about Jonas. The stress of final exams gets to Even, and moreso to Isak -- who does something drastic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's patiently been waiting for this update and commenting such encouraging things <3 I'm done getting distracted by oneshots, I'm back to my WIPs now, and I hope you enjoy this update, though it is quite a rollercoaster. <3

 

Even woke up with a restless Isak turning over in bed. And turning over again. And again. Isak sighed, huffed, rubbed the base of his palms against his eyes, turned over, and curled in on himself.

 

Even recognised these sounds from the countless nights Isak lay awake worrying about something. It was even more apparent from Bergen, when they would sleep-Skype, and Even would wake up to the sound of Isak tossing around under his duvet. When they were in the same bed, usually cuddling helped Isak relax, but something about the way Isak was moving told Even that wouldn’t help tonight.

 

He slowly reached an arm out and wrapped his hand around Isak’s, to which he heard Isak let out another strained sigh.

 

‘Are you ok, love?’ Even asked.

 

Isak stilled at that, and Even wondered why. He was about to repeat the question when Isak said,

 

‘Can you put on the rain playlist for me?’

 

It had become a fixture while Even was in Bergen. Though cuddling often helped Isak sleep when they shared a bed, Even had to find ways of helping out from across the country. He’d experimented with various playlists of nature sounds, some of which were more hilarious than relaxing, but Isak found comfort in the rain playlist. It was six hours long, and called ‘Night Rain,’ mostly composed of recorded showers, where the rain is constant but gentle. Isak said it reminded him of being on holiday with his parents in the mountains, before everything went bad.

 

Incapable of denying Isak anything, Even hummed quietly, plugged in his phone, and started the playlist. He rolled onto his side and gently took hold of Isak’s hand again, silently asking if he wanted to be held tonight. For a few moments, he caressed Isak’s knuckles and occasionally dipped his fingers between them.

 

Then, Isak surprised him by taking his hand away, and pushing at Even’s shoulder. Confused, and slightly worried Isak was trying to get as much distance between them as possible, Even followed the movement. But as Isak pushed up behind him, he realised with a flash of shock that Isak wanted to hold _him_.

 

‘Ok?’ Isak whispered into the pillow.

 

Even nodded and pulled Isak’s arm closer around his waist. Then, without warning, Isak’s embrace tightened and squeezed until he was entirely wrapped around Even, gripping on with both hands, burying his face in Even’s hair.

 

Briefly panicking, Even caressed Isak’s arm and asked, ‘Baby, hey, what’s up? Is everything ok?’

 

He could feel Isak’s responding nod and the exhale against his neck. ‘Yeah,’ Isak said, but his voice was broken. ‘I’m fine. I just… I want to hold you. I--I just want this. All the time.’

 

Isak was shaking, his hands balled into fists, and Even had no idea what was bothering him so much. The way he was talking felt so final, like he was expecting Even to just disappear.

 

‘Baby, I’m not going anywhere,’ Even replied softly. But Isak’s grip didn’t lessen. His breath only sped up, and he huffed out, ‘We don’t _know_ what’s going to happen.’

 

‘True,’ Even said carefully, trying to massage the tension out of Isak’s hands, still fisted in Even’s shirt, ‘but that’s true of everything. You’re -- what are you worried about right now? In this minute?’

 

Isak ducked his head and pressed a kiss to the back of Even’s neck. The gesture was so intimate, so soft, that Even felt reassured immediately, though he was still on high alert about why Isak was in such a state.

 

‘What’s going on, Isak?’ Even asked again. _University? Bergen? Kollektivet? School? Me?_

 

Isak sighed slowly and took a few moments to glance the tip of his nose off of Even’s skin. He unballed his fists, finally, and interwove his fingers with Even’s on top.

 

‘I missed you,’ he said quietly, like it was a desperate secret. Even felt the tenderness bloom in his chest, as it always did when Isak was sweet, but he was still unclear about it. They’d said ‘I miss you’ a lot while he was away. Why would it be any different now?

 

‘I missed you too,’ Even replied, unable to keep the slight confusion out of his voice.

 

‘Don’t leave me again,’ Isak said, and though it was said with a hint of humour, Even knew this was the heart of the matter. Isak was worried that Even would leave, and not temporarily.

 

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Even repeated, and turned his entire upper body in Isak’s arms, so he could press a kiss to his lips. Isak released his death grip and returned the kiss gently, softly, so softly, just lips against lips.

 

Even fell asleep not long afterwards. And Isak listened to the rain all night.

 

\--

 

Weeks passed and they fall back into their usual routine of school, homework, sleepovers and debates about university.

 

Isak consistently showed how he really understood the stress Even was going through. More than once Isak insisted he sneak over to the kollektiv and let him distract the worry, either with Netflix, or spooning, or sex. More than once, too, Isak held him while he cried with insecurity. More than once, the issue of what would happen to them if he moved away from Oslo was brought up, only for Isak to say, ‘ _Minutt for minutt_ , ok?’

 

But Even had long since given up trying to get Isak to see his side, and so the ‘debates’ became stubborn reiterations of displeasure instead of meaningful conversation.

 

Still, sometimes the more frustrated and angry they got, the better the sex was. On one particular occasion, Isak rolled his eyes at Even’s latest salty defence, swivelled Even’s chair around, pulled him out of it, pushed him face-forward over the desk in his room, muttered, ‘Just do what I fucking tell you for once,’ and fingered him until he came all over his English notes.

 

It _was_ the most agreeable way to end an argument, though it never solved any of the root problems.

 

When Even woke up on the 1st of April to conduct his compulsive check of emails while he drank his morning coffee, he remembered the sound of Isak’s voice when he got dominant like that, and shivered from the memory alone.

 

It was at that moment that his inbox finally opened and he saw the email.

 

 

>  
> 
> _Universitetet i Oslo --_ _Søknad: Vellykket_
> 
>  

Even got into UiO.

 

He got _in_.

 

Here he was, staring at his laptop screen, on April Fool’s Day of all days, at the kitchen table, just after his parents had gone to work overtime for the weekend. And the email from UiO in his inbox clearly stated, ‘ _We are delighted to inform you that your application for the course BA Media Studies has been accepted_.’

 

The rest of the email contained links to finding accommodation, scholarships, and induction programmes. But Even barely read it, his mind focused on only one thing:

 

_He got in to UiO._

 

Forcing himself to read through to the end, his eyes soon zeroed in on the personalised note in the otherwise formulaic email:

 

 

 

> _The Admissions Team would like to commend you on the strength of your application, in particular the innovation and enterprise you showed in creating and maintaining the informative and entertaining virtual learning environment as part of your extra-curricular activities_.

 

The website. He’d gotten into UiO, in no small part because of the website that Isak had suggested they run.

 

Gratitude filled his heart, and bled into joy.

 

_He got in._

 

At first, Even simply continued staring at the screen.

 

Then he said it aloud to himself: ‘I got in. I got _in_. I got IN!’

 

He jumped up from the chair and walked across the kitchen, hands on his face. ‘Shit. Shit. _Shit_. Oh my god.’

 

Then he started to laugh. A hesitant, disbelieving laugh that grew and grew as the truth really dawned on him.

 

Once the surprise and the giggles wore off, he felt the sharp pinprick of emotion. Relief, sheer monumental relief, washed over him, followed soon by immense gratitude that made him want to maybe cry? _What is this, jeez_. But he laughed again, surprising himself, and let a tear or two fall while he did.

 

All at once he was catapulted by the impulse to shout his news from the rooftops. But he had to tell his family and Isak first.

 

He texted both of his parents. His mom called back immediately, cheering down the phone, her voice still modulated by a tell-tale control that suggested she was holding back tears. His dad, too, called and congratulated him, albeit in a much more reserved manner—but hearing the brief praise, ‘I’m proud of you. You’ve done so well,’ had Even unexpectedly swallow down a lump in his throat.

 

Having told his parents, he needed to see Isak _immediately_ . To see the look on his face when he found out that Even was going to stay, that they had nothing to worry about, that it was _his_ doing that Even got into UiO in the first place.

 

**Mannen i mitt liv**

 

Nå

 

_halla søte_

 

_hvor er du? kan vi prate?_

 

_Hjemme--hvorfor?_

 

 

Even couldn’t wait to reply. He immediately ran out of the house and jumped on the next tram.

 

\--

 

Isak didn’t even get the word ‘halla’ out when Even pulled him in for a long kiss. At first, he kissed him because it was the way they greeted each other, and because Isak was only just out of bed and still warm, and because he was happy.

 

But then—as usually happened—once his lips were on Isak’s, he wanted more all at once.

 

Then he remembered that he didn’t have to worry about leaving Isak, or Isak breaking up with him, and that he could kiss Isak indefinitely now—and his blood raced through him.

 

He held Isak closer and started to nip at his lower lip, dip his tongue past Isak’s lips, whisper between desperate kisses, ‘Baby, I got in, I got in. I’m not going anywhere.’

 

Once his words got through, Isak leaned back and looked carefully at him. Even was caught off-guard by the response, but assumed it was surprise. He tried to close the distance between them for another kiss, only for Isak to hold his hands up against Even’s chest, keeping him back.

 

‘You got in?’ Isak asked, animated by surprise.

 

‘Yes! UiO!’

 

‘UiO,’ Isak repeated. He was expressionless.

 

Even deflated slightly at Isak’s level tone. He’d expected more excitement, more joy, and if he was being honest with himself, some sex.

 

‘Yeah, I did,’ he said, grinning widely, happily. ‘I got into UiO. And it’s all thanks to you.’

 

‘Thanks to me?’ Isak asked, confused. He still didn’t seem happy. He seemed…concerned. ‘What did I have to do with it?’

 

‘In my acceptance letter, they specifically mentioned the website as some kind of indication of “enterprise and innovation,” and that it made my application really strong. So yeah, thanks to you. Everything I’ve wanted is finally within my reach.’

 

To emphasise his words, he stretched both arms around Isak’s waist, and gently pulled him closer.

 

‘Are you … happy for me?’ Even asked quietly, with some insecurity.

 

_Maybe Isak wanted a break. Maybe he wanted a chance to be himself without me always around, always wanting his attention. Maybe he wanted a chance at life without me._

 

‘Of course,’ Isak said, leaning up to place a small peck on Even’s lips. It was scarcely there. A tentative, barely reassuring kiss. ‘Of course I’m happy you got in. I just… I mean, you know what I’m going to ask.’

 

Despite his best intentions, Even was angry. They’d had this discussion countless times. Isak saying he thought Even was restricting himself; Even explaining it was the wiser, safer choice. Isak saying Even didn’t need to be safe always; Even asking if Isak meant that he wanted to break up. Isak saying of course not; Even not fully believing him.

 

He dropped his arms from Isak’s waist and pursed his lips, to avoid the harsh words he _knew_ would come pouring out if he tried to have this conversation one more time.

 

‘Even--’ Isak said, reaching out and holding Even’s wrist in both of his hands.

 

‘I can’t have this argument again.’

 

‘Don’t get me wrong, please,’ Isak pleaded, grasping onto Even. ‘I just hate the idea of you not considering all the options for _your_ future, because you’re afraid of what might happen to us.’

 

‘So you’ve said a thousand times,’ Even said. ‘Why are you still pushing this when you know my answer?’

 

Isak sighed, visibly deflating. Even had expected him to put up another fight—instead Isak seemed to be backing down.

 

‘I just—’ he started, then paused. Tried again. ‘I don’t know if I’m going to be able to come to the same decision,’ he said, tentatively. To the point of seeming guilty.

 

‘What are you talking about?’ Even asked.

 

Was this it? Isak was going to break up with him because Even had chosen them above fucking Copenhagen? _Who even cares about dumb Copenhagen anyway._

 

‘I mean when it comes to this time next year,’ Isak said, his hands fiddling with his cuffs, now. ‘I mean when I send out my university applications and I look at more than just Oslo.’

 

It took a moment for Isak’s words to really get through to Even. Isak was worried Even would resent him for wanting to go to university somewhere else? Seriously?

 

‘You think I’d be mad at you for wanting to go to Trondheim, or Stockholm, or Copenhagen?’ Even asked. ‘Baby, that’s your choice. I would never hold you back from that. And we’d figure out the rest together. Haven’t you been listening to me?’

 

Isak shook his head, seemingly agitated even more by this response. ‘No, Even. I mean—I might be looking … anywhere. Trondheim, sure. But maybe London. Dublin. New York. San Francisco. If not now, when? This is the only point in our lives when we get to be this brave with our choices.’

 

Try as he might, Even was taken aback by Isak’s admission. The thought of them going long-distance within Scandinavia was fine—it was easy to get around and the language barriers were minimal. But – London? _America_?

 

‘Shit,’ Isak sighed, twining his fingers around Even’s again. ‘I’m sorry. You got into UiO and I’m making it about me. Which is exactly what I’ve been protesting this whole time. _Minutt for minutt_. We don’t need to think about this right now.’

 

They didn’t. Isak was right. But now he’d revealed that he had ambitions far beyond the scale Even was operating on, Even couldn’t help but feel the ground was being pulled out from under him. The future he was so comfortable with just half an hour prior was suddenly uncertain all over again. It was maddening.

 

‘Isak—’ he began.

 

But he was cut off when Isak placed a finger to his lips. ‘I’ve been an idiot about this,’ Isak said. ‘You made it abundantly clear you wanted to stay in Oslo. I’m not going to question it anymore. But we _are_ going to celebrate the fact that my smart, beautiful boyfriend got into his BA in Media Studies.’

 

Despite the fact that Isak was kissing him now, curling his hand around Even’s neck in that way he loved, running the tip of his tongue along Even’s bottom lip, pushing his hips forward and turning the two of them around, crowding Even against the wall in that way that made him catch his breath for a second—despite all of that, Even couldn’t switch off the voice in his head that said,

_Is this how I lose you?_

_One kiss at a time?_

 

\--

 

That night, wrapped in Isak’s duvet, and wrapped in Isak, Even was lying awake.

 

He replayed the arguments they’d had about university for the past two months. The whole time, never once Isak mentioned that he was considering applying to universities _so far away_. Never once.

 

Even knew on an intuitive level it was because Isak wanted Even to make his own decisions based on his own interests—but fuck, he still felt like he’d been deceived somehow. Isak had kept such a huge secret from him. One that would definitely have made Even reconsider. Why couldn’t they have talked about this? In all the hours they’d spent talking about Even’s applications, why didn’t Isak once mention this big ambition of his?

 

At that moment, Isak stirred in his sleep, rolling over and nuzzling his face into Even’s neck, his breath warm and ticklish against Even’s skin. One of Isak’s hands drifted around his waist and his left leg instinctively curled around Even’s.

 

_We fit. We just fit._

 

As frustrated as he felt, Even was more in love with Isak than ever. He had no doubt they would make it. They had to.

 

‘Khnsvlr,’ Isak mumbled.

 

Even started and squeezed Isak a little tighter. ‘Are you awake, love?’

 

In response, Isak shifted again and pressed further into Even. He mumbled something as incoherent into Even’s collarbone, and punctuated it with a frustrated grunt.

 

‘Isak?’ Even asked again. He really had no idea if he was awake or not. This was very like Isak’s early morning antics after the alarm went off—but it was now 3am and he wasn’t really replying to Even, more just sleepily protesting something.

 

Suddenly, Isak whined and shook his head. Mumbled something else. Then brushed his hand up Even’s chest.

 

With startling clarity, he said, in English, a single, ridiculous word: ‘ _Poifect_.’

 

The strange cartoonish American-sounding word rang out in the otherwise silent room. And Even

had to stifle the laugh he suddenly wanted to let out.

 

Isak was sleeptalking, and apparently doing it in English?

 

‘Baby?’ Even asked again, hearing the chuckle in his voice. He secretly hoped Isak would let some subconscious thoughts slip at the familiar sound.

 

As if on cue, Isak perked up at Even’s voice, and then smiled to himself, hummed happily, then pressed his hips closer to Even’s. Upon successfully making contact with Even’s lower half, Isak hummed again, letting it grow into a low moan, and then said, thankfully back in Norwegian, ‘Myyyy boyfriend … is _hot_.’

 

Even tried desperately not to laugh. Instead it came out in a kind of choked _pfffft_ and he clapped a hand over his face.

 

Still asleep and running his mouth, Isak was oblivious to this, and continued wriggling in Even’s arms, raising his leg so that he was grinding slowly on Even’s hip. More nonsensical muttering. Then a kiss to Even’s neck. Then a pronounced, even uncomfortable, thrust against Even, followed by a deep groan.

 

Even realised Isak would be mortified to know he was sleeptalking and humping his boyfriend like this, so decided to try and wake him up a bit.

 

‘Baby, hey, wake up, c’mon,’ he said, begrudgingly.

 

‘ _Mmmmmmfpf_ ,’ Isak replied, grinding up on Even again. ‘My…boyfriend…’

 

Even rolled his eyes and tried to shake Isak a little. ‘Isak,’ he said, gently, into his hair.

 

‘MMMmmmm,’ Isak said again. ‘Eeeeeeev. E…venn.’

 

He smiled at that. Only Isak would think of his name that way—stretching out the second syllable to ‘venn,’ so he was mumbling ‘friend’ into his boyfriend’s skin.

 

Even couldn’t help but squeeze Isak tighter for thinking of it like that.

 

Then Isak kept mumbling.

 

‘Even. Eee…vvvvvvenn…tyr.’

 

Even froze. _Eventyr_. Fairy tale.

 

Was this how Isak really saw him?

 

‘Faen,’ Isak muttered, and grasped two fistfuls of Even’s shirt. And started rubbing his now half-hard dick up on Even, grunting softly amidst muttered curses and moans.

 

Ok, so, Isak saw him a few different ways.

 

‘Isak,’ Even whispered into his ear, squeezing him a little as he spoke. ‘C’mon, love, you’re dreaming. Wake up.’

 

At that, Isak frowned, took a big inhale, and then stilled--before slowly, finally, opening his eyes.

 

He glanced up at Even through droopy eyelids and muttered, ‘Whydyouwakemeitsthemiddleofthe _night_.’

 

Even laughed in disbelief and nudged his leg against Isak’s half hard dick as a gentle hint. ‘You were rubbing up on me like a scratching post, babe. Not that I minded, really.’

 

At Even’s touch, Isak realised what had happened and blushed fiercely. ‘Oh, wow. That’s...wow. That’s embarrassing,’ he mumbled into Even’s shoulder, having dropped his head down to hide his face.

 

‘It’s really not your fault that you’re so incredibly attracted to a pretty guy like me,’ Even said, sighing performatively.

 

‘HA,’ Isak retorted. ‘Get over yourself. I’m a horny teenager, what dyou expect.’

 

‘Are you telling me I’m not a pretty guy?’ Even asked, indignant.

 

Isak then stared up at him, deadpan. ‘Really? _10 Things I Hate About You_? You are not Heath Ledger, my man.’

 

The fact that Even’s heart jumped in his chest should not have been a surprise to him, and yet, as per usual, Isak was astounding him every day.

 

‘I cannot explain,’ Even began, trying to keep back a smile, ‘just how much it turns me on that you got that reference, or that you called me your man. If you wanna pick up where you left off a few minutes ago, I am ready and willing.’

 

Isak shoved him and bit him playfully on the nipple. ‘Hey! Watch it!’ Even protested.

 

‘Go to sleep,’ he muttered into Even’s chest.

 

If Even fought sleep a little longer just to watch Isak drift off, no one would know.  And he tried to fight off the creeping worry that nights like these were numbered.

 

\--

 

Like the smallest thread that comes undone from a seam, insecurity unravels everything bit by bit, until it falls asunder.

 

Even knew it was happening, but he had no idea how to stitch it back together. It didn’t seem fair to confront Isak about wanting to study abroad when Even had fought so hard for his right to stay in Oslo. Yet, he still felt slighted by it, the hurt festered, and it grew into the creeping feeling that maybe Isak was disappointed in him. _Maybe Isak wanted him less now_.

 

The cruel result of such negative reinforcement was the sudden appearance of Even’s deep-seated self-destructive jealousy. It took barely anything to set him off now. If he saw a barista crack a joke to make Isak smile while he waited for his coffee, if someone spoke to him while he got books from his locker, if someone asked him for directions on the _street_ , Even preemptively wound an arm around Isak’s waist and usually smacked a kiss on his cheek at the same time.

 

He knew he was being insufferable. He knew that. And although Isak hadn’t yet verbally castigated him for his behaviour, Even had received plenty of exasperated looks in the meantime.

 

The worry was born from a growing suspicion that there was something off about how they were, for months now, though he couldn’t pinpoint when it started. Something about Isak not moving home. Something about Isak not telling him his plans to apply to universities abroad. Something about the night he got back from Bergen. Something, which nagged at him. And which he tried more than once to broach with Isak, who insisted nothing was wrong.

 

The jealousy and possessiveness only got worse then. And it came to a head at Noora’s birthday party in April.

 

\--

 

Noora’s birthday was on the 6th of April, but with finding and moving into a flat, the party was postponed til the last week of the month.

 

With late April, came spring showers. The whole city seeped with them, leaving water constantly dripping from windowsills, plant boxes, tram lines. The puddles that formed along Even’s favourite path through Vår Frelsers gravlund were turning into small ponds with every passing day of rain. It was mostly snowfall turned liquid after the harsh winter they’d had, and the freak snowstorms that had fallen on the city as late as March.

 

The sky was a permanent grey, but with a promise of blue far far beyond the clouds, if only it would stop raining.

 

As Even and Isak walked along the sodden pavement towards Noora and Eva’s new place, they held Even’s teal coat above their heads for some kind of protection from the onslaught of rain.

 

‘I told you to bring your own!’ Even reminded him as they skipped over a deep puddle.

 

‘Why would I do that when I could just borrow yours like this?’ Isak asked back, smirking happily at Even’s disgruntled face.

 

When they finally arrived, the flat was already full. Mahdi and Mikael were lounging across the loveseat in the middle of the living room, barely paying attention to anyone coming in or out. Elias was chatting up Vilde in the corner, which made Isak look aghast towards Magnus in confusion, before Even explained that they’d broken up a few weeks prior.

 

‘Fuck,’ Isak whispered. ‘How did I miss that?’

 

Even shrugged, not wanting to point out that he’d been far too busy studying -- and coaching Even through his life choices -- to make much time for friends recently. ‘They’re still friends,’ he offered, instead. ‘I don’t think Magnus is too upset.’

 

Eva and Noora were greeting everyone from the kitchen, where they were both stirring some kind of hot punch on the stove, clearly loved up by the way they kept getting distracted from their task, to share kisses over the sweet, spicy steam rising from the big pot in front of them.

 

Adam, Mutta and Chris were standing in the far corner talking to Sana and Yousef, who were holding hands discreetly. Yousef looked blissed, and Sana seemed begrudgingly bashful, while Mutta poked fun at them both.

 

Jonas and Magnus were standing closest to the door when Even and Isak arrived, and both gave them a hug as they all greeted.

 

‘Hey man!’ Magnus said, loudly, as he enveloped Even in a bear hug. ‘Long time!’

 

‘Magnus get off my boyfriend,’ Isak snapped.

 

‘Chill out,’ Magnus laughed, as he squeezed Even tighter. Even could only laugh at the sight of Isak’s scrunched-up annoyed face. Plus, no small part of him was soothed by it.

 

‘I don’t _know_ ,’ Jonas lilted mockingly, before he slipped an arm around Isak’s waist, ‘I’d be careful about getting too close to Mags, Even. I was Isak’s first, after all.’

 

Isak sighed loudly, ‘ _Jonas._ ’

 

But the joke was lost on Even, who stiffened in Magnus’ arms, and quickly stepped back to look at Jonas and Isak, now no longer embracing.

 

‘Your first?’ Even asked, his stomach turning.

 

‘Yup,’ Jonas said, with a smug grin. ‘The gay awakening, if you will.’

 

‘ _Herregud_ ,’ Isak muttered, holding his face in his hands.

 

The sting that flared across Even’s chest was overpowering. He’d had an inkling that Isak’s friendship with Jonas was different, but he’d put that down to just being best friends for over a decade. Not because Isak had ever _kissed_ Jonas? Or had _sex_ with him? Or that they -- that they were _in love_?

 

Suddenly the baristas flirting with Isak were no worry at all. They were fleeting instances of temptation. Jonas was a fixture: and Isak’s closest friend, practically a brother to him. Though -- Even realised -- he wouldn’t think of their bond as being brotherly anymore. Jonas was a risk. A threat.

 

Suddenly, too, Even understood the depth of Isak’s insecurity about Mikael. Now he was in Isak’s shoes, and everything seemed much less certain than it had been just a few minutes prior.

 

‘I’m honestly offended it wasn’t me, Isak,’ said Magnus, holding his beer can to his chest in mock outrage. ‘You know I would have been up for it.’

 

Isak rolled his eyes and took hold of Even’s hand, unsubtly and proudly moving it around his waist before shoving it into his back pocket. A little surprised by Isak’s display, Even didn’t protest, but left his hand cupping Isak’s ass through his jeans, and wondered how long he should leave it there. Was this for the boys’ benefit? For Mikael’s? Or just for them?

 

‘Mags we’ve been over this,’ Isak sighed, ‘you’re just a major turn-off.’

 

‘You say that but I think it’s because you’ve never allowed yourself to consider it,’ Magnus rebutted smugly. ‘I could rock your world, Valtersen.’

 

Even knew Magnus was being funny. He knew Magnus was fighting his own battles after he and Vilde broke up. He knew he was just trying to fake confidence to get through a vulnerable feeling, but despite knowing all of that, Even’s anger and worry coursed through him and he clenched his jaw to keep back the possessive words he knew would otherwise come spilling out. His brain was still stuck on the groundbreaking realisation that Isak had fooled around with his closest friend and never mentioned it to him.

 

It was only when Isak turned to him and whispered, ‘Down, boy,’ that Even noticed he’d also squeezed Isak’s ass, hard, as an involuntary response. He loosened his grip and tried not to be overwhelmed with jealousy. What he wanted more than anything was for Isak to lean up and leave an obnoxious kiss on his lips, to make an innuendo about their _extremely satisfying_ and _frankly_ _unparalleled_ sex life, or to just bite Even on the neck then and there as some kind of primitive territorial marker.

 

Isak rolled his eyes again and leaned into Even’s chest, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek. ‘I’m thoroughly taken, Mags,’ he said, and it eased Even’s mind. For a moment, at least.

 

But Jonas placed a finger beneath Isak’s chin, slowly tilted it up, and then whispered, ‘Don’t you miss me at all?’ with a mischievous grin, standing far too close to his face for Even’s liking.

 

And Even knew Jonas was teasing. That he was being playful and ironic. That he was trying to get a rise out of Isak more than Even. But he also could not bear it.

 

Without consciously thinking it through, Even grabbed Isak by the hand, looked Jonas dead in the eye, and spat out, ‘ _No_ ,’ before twirling Isak around and shoving him up against the wall.

 

Isak didn’t have time to verbalise the confusion evident on his face before Even covered him completely, kissing him deeply, moaning louder than normal, and running his hands through Isak’s hair. He was putting on a real exhibition for the boys -- for Jonas, really -- when he slid his hands down Isak’s back, and beneath Isak’s waistband, until his palms were firmly curved around his boyfriend’s ass, pulling it away from the wall and up against his own groin.

 

‘Wow,’ he heard from Magnus.

 

‘Oh _fy faen_ not again,’ from Mahdi.

 

Silence from Jonas.

 

Even was pleased that Isak hadn’t already broken off to ask him what the hell he was doing -- judging by the small smile pressing against Even’s lips, Isak didn’t mind the pointed PDA -- but he couldn’t fully focus on how much he was enjoying feeling up his boyfriend in public when he really wanted to know how _effective_ his possessiveness was. He didn’t want to interrupt the extremely heavy makeout session to catch a glimpse of Jonas’ face, but he also wanted to know for sure if Jonas was surprised, angry, _envious_.

 

Luckily, at that moment, Isak started kissing and licking at Even’s cheek, jaw, and finally neck, working on a possessive hickey of his own. Even had the opportunity to glance over and see Magnus and Mahdi, both laughing awkwardly at their friends’ exhibitionism -- and Jonas, who was staring back at Even, shock and intrigue all over his face.

 

Even couldn’t help himself. He smiled back at Jonas, whose eyes glanced down to where Isak’s mouth was firmly attached to Even’s neck and then back up to Even. Without losing eye contact, Even tilted his head down and immediately stuck his tongue in Isak’s mouth, who responded eagerly, running his hands up inside Even’s t-shirt.

 

‘Get a fucking room, guys,’ Magnus whined, before Mahdi let out a loud laugh, ‘You’re just salty because you want to be in between them.’

 

Isak huffed a laugh against Even’s lips, but they didn’t stop.

 

‘What are you gonna do next, Even?’ he heard Jonas ask. ‘Piss all over him to mark your territory?’

 

Even ignored him, but took inspiration from the sentiment. He pulled back from the kiss, and moved his hands from Isak’s ass to his neck, before sinking his teeth into the soft skin beneath his ear. Isak let out a gasp when he realised what Even was doing -- not just working on a hickey, but _biting_ him -- and let out a moan immediately after. Even could barely believe he was doing this, flagrantly asserting his control and possessiveness, but the way Isak pliantly moved under his hands, demonstrating how much he liked it, only turned Even on more.

 

‘C’mon,’ Mahdi said, ‘let’s go smoke on the roof. Leave these two to get each other pregnant or whatever the fuck.’

 

Even glanced over and saw Magnus and Mahdi leaving, but was a bit more than surprised to see Jonas hadn’t moved. He was standing with one hand in his jean pocket, the other still wrapped around a beer.

 

Isak was kissing Even again, but Even’s eyes were fixed on Jonas.

 

Jonas, who was all of a sudden looking back, like he dared Even to do something.

 

The breath was driven from Even’s lungs, and he didn’t fully understand why. He still wanted to prove Isak was his, but Jonas derailed it somehow. Now the display was about something else.

 

Isak was kissing Even but had no idea that only Magnus and Mahdi had left. He whispered on Even’s lips, ‘When did you figure this out, huh?’

 

Taken aback by the question, Even made a small sound of confusion.

 

‘That I like being watched?’ Isak murmured, his eyes still closed as he kissed Even’s neck, the tone of his voice betraying how much of a secret he thought it was.

 

Even glanced back to Jonas, who was looking at them both with his head tilted slightly to the side, like he was curious about something. The nonchalance irked Even. And the desire to stick it to Jonas returned tenfold.

 

He gently moved his right hand from Isak’s neck and slid it down his torso and chest. He kept going, until he was dragging his fingers along Isak’s abdomen, his groin, and the line of his dick, where he placed his index finger and just traced the outline of Isak, so Jonas could see. So Jonas could see how Isak had only given Even permission to touch it.

 

Isak whined lowly in Even’s ear and he responded by placing the tips of his index and middle finger on either side of Isak’s semi through his jeans and rubbing up and down alongside it. Isak let out another moan and gripped onto the front of Even’s shoulders, dipping his tongue inside his mouth.

 

Jonas’s mouth dropped open as he stared at Even’s right hand, and that’s when Even noticed Jonas’ hand inside his own jeans, slowly moving.

 

At that moment, Eva yelled at the top of her lungs for everyone to come into the kitchen and get some punch. Jonas startled at the sound of her voice and turned heel, heading straight for the kitchen like nothing had happened. Isak jerked back from Even when she shouted, too, and glanced around to see if anyone had witnessed their increasingly heavy petting. He looked a little vulnerable and stunned, and Even decided they needed a time-out before they got back to the party. Despite the fact that he was still reeling from what seemed like … Jonas touching himself while watching them?

 

Focused more on Isak now, Even glanced around the flat and spotted that the bathroom was unoccupied. ‘Hey,’ he nudged Isak, pointing at the open door.

 

‘Yeah,’ Isak said, his face inscrutable, following Even’s gaze, before the two headed in and locked the door behind them.

 

Isak sat up on the counter next to the sink, and Even got the implied request not to stay close to him while they spoke. Even perched on the edge of the bath to face him.

 

‘So…’ Even began awkwardly, not knowing where to start, and wondering if Isak was about to ask him just what the hell he was playing at. But then Isak laughed the way he loved so much and Even’s shoulders dropped in relief.

 

‘Alright,’ Isak said. ‘So where did that come out of?’

 

Even felt a blush rise to his cheeks. Though Isak didn’t look annoyed or upset, he did seem more than a little skeptical. He folded his arms and sized Even up, waiting for him to explain himself.

 

‘Sorry I--I wasn’t thinking,’ said Even.

 

‘I don’t want you to apologise,’ Isak huffed out with a small chuckle. ‘I wanna know why you _did_ just piss all over your territory like Jonas said.’

 

Even’s blush darkened. ‘I didn’t --’

 

Isak rolled his eyes. ‘You might as _well_ have for the exhibition we just put on.’

 

‘I-- I don’t know what came over me, really. I just. I was taken off guard a bit.’

 

‘By what?’ Isak asked, genuinely confused. ‘You already knew about Jonas.’

 

‘No I did _not_ ,’ Even protested, also folding his arms in front of him, the frustration and hurt returning now he was reminded what prompted his dominant display in the first place.

 

Isak glanced down to see his mirrored gesture and rolled his eyes again. ‘ _Yeah_ , you did. I definitely told you.’

 

‘When we first got together, you told me you weren’t out to the boys!’ Even cried, raising his arms in the air now. ‘You specifically said that “not even Jonas” knew! The implication is obvious!’

 

Isak’s face drops now. ‘Oh,’ he said quietly. ‘I -- I could have sworn -- ah shit.’ He looked guiltily at his feet, while Even softened, too.

 

‘I--I thought you knew. I thought I’d told you. Sorry,’ Isak said gently. ‘I can see why that came as a shock.’

 

‘I mean, I wondered,’ Even went on, ‘if you’d felt this way about guys before me. I just didn’t know it was Jonas. Or that you guys had ever ... I mean, I had no idea you’d ever … been with--’

 

‘No, I hadn’t,’ Isak said, shaking his head. ‘It wasn’t like that. We-- we kissed. Once. And it was a huge mistake. I’d been … a huge asshole … and I basically fucked things up with him and Eva at the end of our first term at Nissen. Then my papa left after my mama had her episode, and one night I snuck over to Jonas’ place to avoid my parents again, and it just sort of … happened.’

 

He started swinging his feet off the cabinet, letting it _thud_ every time his heels came back against it. Even knew Isak was building up the courage to keep talking, so he stayed quiet.

 

‘We were high. I think if we hadn’t been high it never would have happened. I would have run a mile. I already knew I had a crush on him by that point, but I knew he was straight, so. Yeah. Anyway, he asked me why I’d never hooked up with any of the girls. And then I joked that I should practice on one of the guys. And then, we sort of, yeah. We kissed. A bit. It wasn’t -- it wasn’t a big deal.’

 

Judging by the look on Isak’s face at just the memory, though, Even could tell it was a big deal. At least to the Isak of early 2016. And he noticed how antsy his own thoughts became at the confirmation that Jonas was not just a friend. That, plus catching Jonas with his hand in his pocket…? Even could feel the insecurity set in and grow, like the flame of a match billowing into a forest fire.

 

‘So he was my first crush. And technically the first guy I ever kissed, but he also wasn’t really either of those things. Not --’

 

At that, Isak cut himself off, and kept his eyes resolutely focused on his feet, as he chewed on his lip.

 

‘Not...?’ Even repeated, hoping for Isak to continue.

 

Isak shook his head and looked away. The movement was the tell-tale sign that he was about to cry, and Even saw the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. It shocked him so much he didn’t know what to say, he just sat there waiting for Isak to speak.

 

Then Isak cleared his throat and sniffed, pushing his nose against the knuckles of his right hand,  and coughed again. ‘It’s nothing,’ he said, waving Even off.

 

‘Baby,’ Even said at once, standing up from the bath and walking in between Isak’s legs where they spread on the counter. He placed his hands on Isak’s face and tilted it up towards him. Isak closed his eyes and tried to turn away. Even left a kiss on his cheek in response.

 

‘Hey,’ he whispered, ‘Talk to me. I’m here. I wanna know.’

 

Isak shook his head again and kept his eyes shut tight, the line of his mouth quivering in order to keep the words inside.

 

‘Please, talk to me,’ Even implored, caressing Isak’s cheeks with his thumbs.

 

At that, Isak let out a shaky exhale and then blurted, ‘I love you, Even,’ staring up into his eyes, now, his hands wrapped around Even’s wrists. ‘I love you so much. And it’s _terrifying_. Because yeah, Jonas was my first crush and technically my first kiss, but neither of those things mean shit now that I’ve met you.’

 

Stunned. Even was stunned. Sure, they’d said ‘I love you’ countless times, now, but this was different. This was Isak saying far, far more.

 

‘Isak,’ Even whispered, before he kissed him gently on the lips. He repeated his name again and again, kissing Isak every time.

 

‘I feel the same about you,’ Even replied, keeping him close, always close.

 

‘Do you?’ Isak asked immediately. He looked defiant even while he seemed afraid. ‘I need to know Even because I’m-- sometimes I feel like I’m going to wake up and you’ll have disappeared into thin air, like you never existed.’

 

‘What? _Why_ ?’ Even said, baffled as to how Isak would be worried about that -- Even was the one staying in Oslo, _he_ was the one thinking of leaving!

 

‘I don’t know,’ said Isak, ‘I just… fuck.’ He shook his head, and tried again. ‘I’m not trying to guilt you, but-- it’s happened before. And I’m afraid of it happening again. And I don’t mean you having an episode, that’s not what worries me. I mean, me being in a position of not knowing enough. Not knowing what’s coming next. Not having any control in my life.’

 

At that, Even’s heart sank to his feet. He knew what that fear was. He knew how all-encompassing it could get. He was living it right then and there. And he had no idea how to tell Isak it was groundless, that everything would be fine, that they had nothing to fear. They were both facing huge unknowns, and the reality was overwhelming.

 

But he was seeing how vulnerable Isak was, and how much he needed reassurance. So Even had to help, he couldn’t allow Isak to continue second-guessing himself.

 

‘Remember what you told me on Valentine’s Day?’ he asked, glancing the tips of their noses off each other.

 

‘ “It’s too **fucking** cold to go to Hovedøya, Even, _hva faen_ ”,’ Isak replied, deadpan, but with a glint in his eye.

 

‘No, the other thing,’ Even said, smiling right back.

 

Isak shrugged and look up at Even for the answer.

 

‘ “We can take this totally chill. _Minutt for minutt_ , okay?”’ Even said, recalling perfectly the words he’d etched into his memory that day.

 

A warm smile bloomed across Isak’s face. He softened under Even’s hands, the tension falling from his shoulders, and he nodded happily, right before he drew Even in for a tight hug, both holding on until the other let go.

 

So, they held each other until Magnus came by the bathroom ten minutes later and insisted they “stop fucking in the new flat, Nooreva hasn’t even had a chance to break it in yet.”

 

\--

 

They returned to the party, and Even caught up with Elias and Mutta about how their jobs were going, while Isak chatted to Chris and Vilde. Elias had just started waiting tables at the Hard Rock Cafe (which was nightmarish), while Mutta had gotten shift work at the coffee house near his place. They were saving up to go on a road trip across the U.S. the next year, and while they outlined their plans --  for buying some beat-up old car somewhere near Newark airport before driving immediately across to Chicago -- Even noticed how four or five people he didn’t recognise arrived into the flat and immediately walked over to Chris, who greeted them all with hugs and introductions to Isak: Vilde apparently already knew them.

 

One of them, a tall dark-haired boy, who looked a year or two older than the rest, perched on the armrest next to Vilde, and though she was looking up at him with clear interest, his eyes were fixed on Even. The stare was pronounced. From where Even stood in the corner, he kept accidentally making eye contact, and the boy’s body language became louder and louder as he turned to face Even squarely, spreading his legs somewhat and leaning back with an arm behind his head.

 

It was the least subtle behaviour Even had witnessed all night. Aside from Jonas’. Whatever that was.

 

He chose to ignore it, refocusing on Mutta’ detailed account of haunted houses on route 66.

 

Attuned to Isak’s presence, Even noticed him stand up from the couch and make his way into the bathroom: he gave Even a quick wink on the way. Even winked back, and continued listening to Mutta.

 

A few minutes later, in his peripheral vision, Even could see the boy approach slowly, before introducing himself, and unabashedly checking Even out in a full-body stare. Picking up on the tension, Mutta and Elias chuckled and made their excuses to leave for the kitchen.

 

‘Halla,’ the boy said, his feet in between Even’s now, as he leaned further in to his personal space.

 

‘Hei,’ Even replied, nervous about how to respond. He wasn’t interested, but he didn’t want to be rude? It had been so long since anyone had hit on him he was essentially paralysed by shock.

 

‘Chris did not tell me I’d be in the presence of a tall blue-eyed Sami dreamboat,’ he said, unfazed by the casual racism he’d just exhibited.

 

‘I’m… not Sami?’ Even replied, confused. ‘And that’s kind of an offensive thing to say, especially considering all the genetic profiling their community have been historically forced to undertake.’

 

‘Oh and he’s woke too,’ the boy said to himself, smiling darkly back.

 

At that moment Isak, emerging from the bathroom, walked back into the sitting room and noticed the boy’s unselfconscious stare and disregard for Even’s personal space. Even caught his eye over the guy’s shoulder and hoped he could read his thoughts through the displeasure in his gaze alone.

 

Isak responded at once, stomping over and grabbing Even’s hand before giving him an obnoxious kiss, with tongue, before he turned to the guy briefly and said, ‘Hi, Even’s boyfriend needs him now.’

 

The guy raised his eyebrows in disbelief, and then scoffed, before backing off and going back to his friends.

 

Even laughed and squeezed Isak’s fingers. ‘Jealous, much?’

 

Without responding, Isak put his hand on the back of Even’s neck and looked longingly at his lips. Just that look alone had Even weak. He wanted to kiss him so badly when he let himself look like that. And he knew Isak could tell because the next thing he said was,

 

‘Just being honest,’ still staring openly at Even’s lips, ‘because I’ve been thinking all day about something.’

 

‘What’s that?’ Even asked carefully.

 

Isak shrugged. ‘Well. I was in bed last night, trying to go to sleep, and I remembered the feeling of your fingers inside me, rubbing up and hitting that spot that makes my whole body light up, and then it was really difficult to pretend I was ok with someone else trying to touch you.’

 

Though the words turned Even on -- Isak’s dirty talk always did, and he used that power to his advantage -- he sensed they were a little forced, a little too emphatic to be genuine. But he threw that thought away, dismissing it as anxiety, based on nothing.

 

His breathing was deep and slow at Isak’s flagrant innuendo, and Isak smirked.

 

‘And that’s not mentioning how much I loved remembering your moans when I go down on you, how completely helpless you are when I do that thing with  my tongue.’

 

Even swallowed and closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure why Isak was doing this here, now, but the desperate part of him refused to think about it. ‘Fuck I love that thing.’

 

Isak laughed and rubbed his nose against Even’s. ‘I know, baby.’

 

That is it for Even. He tilted his head and leaned in to brush his lips against Isak’s, that hapless joy washing over him as he felt how soft and familiar they are. Isak was  braver this time, though, and kissed back with greater force—and tongue—confidently licking into Even’s mouth and holding his face even closer. The fear that something was being avoided by this, that the kissing and the promise of sex was all a deflection, returned -- but Even once more cast it off, choosing to hold on to Isak instead.

 

They left the party early that night, and went to sleep very, very late. Even decided, as they fell asleep in Isak’s bed, that he wouldn’t tell him about what happened with Jonas. Not yet. Maybe Isak didn’t need to know yet. Maybe Isak didn’t need to know ever.

 

\--

 

Soon, such parties were impossible as the stress of final exams began to build, and Even spent more and more time studying at home at night and turning down invitations to hang out with anyone -- sometimes including Isak.

 

He knew he was isolating himself. He knew he needed to strike a better work/life balance. But he’d gotten into UiO and he needed to meet the entry requirements for grades, which meant he needed to study until he couldn’t study any more.

 

Isak was supportive, as always. He started going to the gym with Mahdi and Mikael -- _honestly Even they’re worse than we are_ \-- and joined a football team, spending his new free time exercising: running, weightlifting, squatting. The photos alone made Even tired. But that might have been due to the furious jerking off sessions he occasionally allowed himself when the boredom/stress cross-section reached a fever pitch every few nights.

 

He began to realiase they only flirted by text or phone call now, and the few times they spent together that didn’t include study sessions where Even got increasingly anxious, they spent talking about practical, mundane things: _how’s counselling, when is your next football game, how is Sana doing, what’s the heaviest you can lift now?_

 

He loses track of when the last time they had sex was. He loses track of the last time he asked Isak about anything that wasn’t school- or sport-related. He loses track entirely.

 

But he told Isak about the progress with his parents -- and that, they could share. His papa made a point of driving him to counselling every Saturday now, just to chat to him about his week. The night before Even’s first exam on the 1st of June, his mama even started calling Mikael by they/them, and suggested that Even invite them round with Mahdi, too, for dinner sometime.

 

Isak hummed down the phone at that, reiterating Even’s point that it was good news, but hung up abruptly soon after: Even texted to ask if everything was alright, but never got a response. He texted again asking if Isak wanted to hang out after his exam the next day, but the message was left on read.

 

The next morning, Even went ahead and sat his first exam, Norwegian, which he felt pretty proud of -- having stayed up until 4am rereading his notes, which came in handy when all of the last-minute cramming came in handy for his 5-page essay on Ibsen -- and immediately called Isak after getting out of school. Eventually, right before Even was about to give up, Isak answered.

 

‘Hei.’

 

‘Hei baby!’ Even responded. ‘I’m just out. Where are you? Can I see you?’

 

‘Yep. I’m at kollektivet.’

 

The short answers were making Even slightly uneasy. He couldn't tell if Isak was mad at him, or upset about something.

 

‘Awesome. Can I come over? I’ll bring beer!’

 

‘Yeah, cool.’

 

And he hung up again.

 

Even pulled the phone back from his ear and stared at it. He had no idea why Isak was acting this way, but at least he’d agreed to see Even.

 

Even decided it must be to do with how he’d isolated himself from everyone while he was revising. So while he was passing KIWI, he stopped in and bought three bars of Isak’s favourite chocolate -- Kvikklunsj -- and two bags of his favourite crisps, along with ingredients for the dinner Even had planned for them (lemon and saffron risotto). On his way to the cashier he spotted a bouquet of roses and figured it couldn’t hurt.

 

Before he got on the tram, he stopped by the corner shop to get beer, too, and headed over to kollektivet with a big smile on his face. He knew no matter how mad Isak was, these gifts were sure to butter him up. Maybe even lead to a make out session. A blow job or two if he was extra lucky.

 

Even was thrilled. The endorphin hit of having gotten through his first exam hit him, hard, and he bound up the steps to Isak’s flat after he’d been buzzed in.

 

Knocking happily on the door, Even waited for Isak to open it. He waited a minute. Then two. Then he knocked again, and finally heard Isak’s footsteps on the other side.

 

When the door swung open, Even beamed at his boyfriend, before he processed the sight in front of him.

 

‘Isak--’ he said, amazed into silence.

 

Isak stood in the doorway, but it barely looked like Isak. The long curls were missing from his face. He’d shaved all of his hair clean off.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .  
> .  
> .  
> .  
>  Isak is having a really hard time but he's not telling Even about any of it. He thinks he's communicating clearly but he's evading the real truths he needs to explicitly state so that Even understands the deeper worries he has. Even, too, is not helping things by slowly isolating himself this chapter, and allowing the insecurity and jealousy to fester instead of acknowledging to either himself or Isak where they are rooted.
> 
> The next chapter is due to be the last, but that depends on how long it ends up being when I write it out. I hope it's not the last, because I have a soft spot for this fic (it's my first!), but if anyone has strong feelings about things they want to see happen, then please shout x
> 
> Kudos & comments make my day. And so do all of you. <3 Thank you for everything.


	20. Carousel of Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At last. I have written the final instalment of this fic. Overdue apologies for (1) delaying the final chapter post; (2) appearing to have abandoned this; (3) getting caught up in writing other fics; (4) starting with a boring apology.
> 
>  
> 
> For anyone who’s understandably forgotten what the first nineteen chapters were about because I took so long getting here, I’ve prepared a summary here:  
> https://www.flickr.com/gp/156147912@N04/bz266F 
> 
>    
> Tags for this chapter: restroom graffiti with slurs, a reference to HIV, the pink triangle.
> 
> And now, to the final instalment. I hope you enjoy <3

 

‘Morning, Even.’

 

Even rubs his eyes and tries to stifle a yawn.

 

‘You tired?’

 

‘I didn’t sleep much last night,’ he answers.

 

‘Why’s that?’

 

He briefly closes his eyes, and wonders how to explain something he doesn't fully understand himself. All night he’d tried to comprehend how he’d missed so many signs, how he’d been so blind to the obvious truths creeping up on him.

 

‘I’ve … well, actually, Isak … he-- he shaved all of his hair off.’

 

Åse looks nonplussed. She waits for Even to continue, and he can’t help but feel mildly irritated at her for not reacting the way he’d hoped.

 

‘He shaved all of his hair off!’ Even repeats, expecting maybe a slight widening of the eyes, a mild gasp, anything to validate his shock.

 

‘Ok,’ Åse says. ‘What is it about that decision that has you losing sleep?’

 

Even sighs and looks at his hands. How to explain this?

 

He does his best: he tells Åse about how they’ve been drifting apart, how Isak’s been spending all his time at the gym, how Even’s been spending all his time revising for exams, and they haven’t been a couple for _weeks_ , now. Their interactions mostly take place by text or over the phone. And Even had been so looking forward to seeing him finally, and making up for all those nights spent alone, when Isak opened the door and it took Even a moment to recognise his own boyfriend.

 

‘How did you react?’ Åse asks.

 

‘I … I panicked, of course. But I was so blindsided by it that I didn’t have anything to say. And I was conscious that he was standing there waiting for me to respond so I-- I just jumped into default, told him he looked _different_ , and then we went inside and watched a movie.’

 

Åse considers this. Takes some notes. Then she looks back up at Even and says, ‘I infer that you’re anxious about Isak’s drastic haircut being symbolic of some greater problem in the relationship?’

 

‘Yes of course,’ Even replies, trying not to snap.

 

‘Because of how distanced you’ve both been recently?’

 

‘Yes.’

 

‘Well, how do you usually go about solving that?’

 

Even opens his mouth to retort and then closes it again. He knows where she’s going with this.

 

‘You need to be more open with Isak about your concerns,’ she says. ‘You’re not a mindreader. Neither is he.’

 

There’s an inevitable annoyance that comes with being given good advice, and Even slumps back in his chair to try and mask it. ‘This time I feel like talking about it isn’t quite enough,’ he admits. ‘Sometimes it feels like all we do is talk about the relationship, instead of actually having one.’

 

‘So act,’ Åse replies, ‘People can get exhausted from discussion. The cliché is that actions speak louder than words -- and it’s a cliché for a reason.’

 

‘So … I should give him something? A gift?’

 

Åse tilts her head as she looks at him.

 

And Even realises she means something bigger. Much bigger.

 

‘A… gesture? Like, maybe …’

 

Even considers his next words carefully, but as soon as they’re out, he knows it’s a long overdue idea. ‘You think he should meet my parents?’

 

Smiling, Åse nods and then asks, ‘Wouldn’t you get some relief from knowing that they _really_ are accepting of you? Isak, too, would likely find that reassuring.’

 

Even squirms at the thought of letting his parents in that much, but he can’t deny that Åse has a point. It would confirm his new relationship with Isak, and it would prove that his parents mean what they say when they show him support, now.

 

‘Ok,’ he says. ‘It might absolutely backfire, but it’s worth a try.’

 

Åse smiles again and takes another note. ‘Now. How are you sleeping -- last night aside?’

 

She returns to her usual template: questions about his diet, his meds, his moods. He updates her on the success of his new routine -- his grades are high, he’s on track to meet the conditions of his university offer -- and how it’s given a boost to his mental health.

 

Åse nods along, giving the occasional _hmm_ of approval, and then she twitches her lip, looks down at her notebook, and then flips it back to the very first page. Watching her with interest, Even leans forward and is about to ask what she’s doing, when Åse says, ‘I want to share something with you. Unethical as it is, I think it might help.’

 

He waits, unsure where she’s going with this, and then she picks the book up and hands it to him.

 

Åse has never let Even read any of her notes. Not once. And now that she’s letting him look. he wonders what it is she wants him to see.

 

The first page is dated to May last year. Even recognises it as the session he had with her after his episode in Disen -- reciting Tarjei Vesaas poems while high on a rooftop, briefly considering jumping off. It was one of his lowest lows, seeing Åse after that. And her notes are slow, careful. Scribbles like:

 

 

 

 

 

 

> _euphoria, recklessness, impulsivity -- inconsistent with typical symptoms of cannabis high? *Cross-reference interactions with Zoloft_
> 
>  
> 
> _defeated_
> 
>  
> 
> _parental pressure continuing to impact on progress_
> 
>  
> 
> _considering transfer to another school -- clean slate? needs to understand the difference between facing / running from a problem_
> 
>  
> 
> _neural pathways -- ties MH directly to failure, loneliness, fatalism._
> 
>  
> 
> _unconscious compulsive repetition: ‘It doesn’t matter.’_
> 
>  

Even reads these and is momentarily transported back to that meeting. None of Åse’s notes are news, she said it all in the session, but he’s struck by the difference between now and then.

 

And then he realises what she wanted him to see.

 

‘You’ve come so far,’ she says, gently. ‘This was just a year ago. One year, that’s all. And look how much you’ve grown as a person.’

 

The evidence is irrefutable. And Even is moved by the hard proof that all the toil and worry and anxiety wasn’t futile struggle. He _has_ come far. He _has_ succeeded.

 

‘I think,’ Åse continues, ‘as much as you are concerned about your exams, and your new relationship, and your future, you should take a moment to really be mindful and grateful for your progress. The day I wrote those notes, you were hopeless, lost, confused. And now? Look at your problems in comparison.’

 

Even smiles to himself and closes the notebook. ‘You’re right,’ he says. ‘That was hugely unethical.’

 

He pauses a moment before he speaks again. Åse should know how much it means to him. ‘But,’ he says, ‘I really appreciate it. I… I needed to see that.’

 

He’s gotten through everything. And come out the other side stronger, more resilient, happier.

 

Åse takes the notebook back, closes it, and puts it on the desk next to her. She puts her hands together and looks at Even with an eyebrow raised. The atmosphere shifts, and he has no idea what to make of it.

 

‘There’s one more thing,’ she says.

 

‘I think you’ve reached a stage where we can lower your dosage. It’ll be a trial period, as always, to see how you react to the new regimen. But I’m confident it would be good for you.’

 

Even lights up at the admission.

 

‘Now don’t get too excited,’ she warns him. ‘I don’t want you to get sucked into thinking your aim is to go off your meds eventually. It works for some people and not others. This is a very fine and delicate science, and needing your meds is not a weakness or a failure. Ok?’

 

Even nods, and says, ‘I do understand that. It’s ingrained in me to _want_ to be meds-free, but. I don’t think of them as a negative thing.’

 

‘Great,’ Åse replies, and turns to her computer. ‘Let’s get you started on a new dose, then.’

 

* * *

 

 

**Mama**

 

_hei_

 

_are you and pappa free on Wednesday?_

 

_Hei yndling._

 

_Yes._

_Do you need something?_

 

_i want you to meet Isak_

 

_That would be lovely._

 

_Shall we invite him for dinner?_

 

_yeah. that’s great_

 

_thank you_

 

_Of course, son._

_ <3 _

 

* * *

 

 

It hasn’t been that long since Even’s episode: yet, it feels like time has sped up while he improved, focused on his priorities, and made a concerted effort to develop. As he walks to kollektivet, a bag of thai food takeout in his hand, he reminds himself of Åse’s advice.

 

_Be grateful. Be mindful._

 

And there is so much to be grateful for. So much to be mindful of. For once, he’s not riddled with nerves or dread or anger -- he’s enjoying the summer sunshine falling on Møllergata. It’s late evening, and it’s almost hot enough that Even’s mildly worried he’ll get sunburned. As he reaches the KIWI that marks where he should turn left for kollektivet -- the same KIWI he used to go to on his lunch breaks -- he stops, and looks right, down Hausmannsgate. His feet start moving before he fully decides he wants to do this.

 

He sees the familiar graffiti on the corner -- WE KNOW YOUR CAPITALISTIC PARADISE -- and smiles softly as he remembers back to his first year in Bakka, when Mikael started volunteering with Vestbredden, the communal housing community initiative who’ve occupied that corner for two decades.

 

It’s only a few hundred metres from there that he sees the modern concrete-and-glass building of Elvebakken. He braces himself as his eyes fall on it again, and awaits the punch in the gut from his memories.

 

Instead, he feels a warm breeze around his ankles, and a slight shift in his stomach, making room for the impact that never comes.

 

He’s calm. It’s not a terrible place. He’s not who he once was. The building gleams in the sunlight.

 

Finally, Even lets go of his shame as he closes his eyes and lets out the breath he’d held for far too long.

 

When he breathes in, he’s turned back towards home.

 

* * *

 

 

Isak loves thai food, and Even knows this. Every time they fantasise about getting takeaway it’s either kebab or thai food. Kebab is usually what they go for because it’s cheaper -- but Even has noticed, the few times they get thai food, that Isak falls into blissful silence as he inhales a chicken pad thai or a green curry, and fully spaces out from whatever conversation or film Even is trying to get him to pay attention to.

 

So it’s alarming when Even sets the tiny kitchen table with some cutlery, the takeout boxes and two glasses of water, and Isak doesn’t comment on it. It’s alarming when Isak starts chewing on egg noodles and duck, and his eyes are glassy, not half-lidded in pleasure. It’s alarming when he gives up eating half way through the meal and sits back, idly prodding his dish with a fork.

 

The silence is profound. And it’s awkward. Even tries various conversation starters -- his session with Åse, his little trip to Elvebakken, his confidence ahead of his last few exams, the _weather_ at one point -- and though Isak nods and replies and engages, they both retreat into silence after a few minutes. And Even is starting to really panic.

 

When he realises that Isak isn’t eating any more, he puts down his cutlery and looks across at him. Isak’s gazing off into the distance, but he doesn’t seem upset or nervous or angry -- he just seems like he’s lost somewhere else.

 

‘Hei du,’ Even says quietly, and nudges him with his foot.

 

Isak’s gaze jumps over to his, and he croaks back a ‘Hei.’ Then pauses. Then, ‘Thanks for dinner.’

 

‘Not hungry?’

 

‘No, not really.’

 

Another pause, and Even is trying not to let his frustration show. He fishes about in his mind for something, anything to get Isak involved.

 

‘I applied for student housing at UiO the other week.’

 

Isak stills and his eyes fix at his feet. He pulls at a hangnail and mumbles, ‘Yeah?’

 

‘Yeah. I got an offer from the Carl Berner studenthus. The one near Tøyen.’

 

A frown appears between Isak’s brows and Even is more confused than ever as to what his behaviour means tonight.

 

‘Isn’t that good?’ Even prompts.

 

‘Comparatively speaking, I guess it is,’ Isak huffs, and crosses his arms.

 

‘Yeah it is!’ Even retorts. ‘It’s only 5000kr a month, it’s furnished, and it includes my wifi and bills!’

 

‘Well that’s just great!’ Isak yells.

 

‘I know!’ Even shouts back.

 

They both stare at each other, and instead of anger fuelling Even, he feels punctured. The distance between them is too great, and too confusing, for this to go on any longer.

 

He slumps back in his chair and asks, ‘Ok. Seriously. What is happening here?’

 

He’s unsurprised to hear his own voice start to break.

 

Isak deflates at the sound of it, too, and he grimaces, holding back words or tears, Even’s not sure. And then he says, defeatedly, ‘We should talk.’

 

* * *

 

 

Isak admits he’s wanted to talk for a while. But Even’s looming final exams kept getting in the way of that ambition.

 

‘I didn’t want to distract you,’ he says. ‘But yeah, I think it’s gotten to a point where we have to deal with it. Postponing is just making everything worse.’

 

‘Alright,’ Even says. ‘So what’s going on?’

 

‘Why don’t you want to move in together?’ Isak rushes out at once.

 

The question slams into Even with force, unexpected, and formidable. It takes him a few moments to actually understand the words, and when they do coagulate into something with meaning, he’s blank with shock.

 

‘What …?’

 

Isak’s lip trembles even though he looks furious, now.

 

‘Is it the same reason you won’t let me meet your parents?’

 

‘I-- Isak, let me explain.’

 

To Even’s immense relief, Isak does pause to let him talk. He tries to assemble his thoughts into something coherent, but he’s put off by the surprise of Isak’s anger, the question of them moving in together, the obvious wound he’s inflicted by keeping Isak away from his family. It’s hard to put in order which is the priority.

 

‘I didn’t know you wanted to move in together,’ Even says, and he hopes Isak understands, that he believes him. ‘I-- I didn’t know. We never talked about it.’

 

‘Yes we did!’ Isak says. ‘When I told you that my pappa was bringing my mama back from Gaustad. I asked you! And you shot me down.’

 

‘That is-- that is not what happened, Isak! You never asked me! You said you wanted to take “the next step” or something, and I thought you meant you wanted to move on with your parents, make some progress! How was I meant to know you wanted to move in together? We’ve only been dating for a few months, it never crossed my mind you’d want to jump forward so quickly!’

 

Isak rolls his eyes. ‘Face it, Even, you just don’t want to be with me. Do you?’

 

Even reels from that accusation, but the hurt transforms immediately to rage. ‘For fuck sake, Isak. Don’t be so dramatic.’

 

‘We haven’t acted like a couple in a while. Not since April, really,’ Isak continues, though he’s forcing a calm demeanour, now. ‘I know two months isn’t that long a time. But it feels like you’re retreating. Why’d you think I’ve been throwing myself into the gym? Why do you think I cut all my hair off?’

 

‘What has that got to do with me?’ Even asks, bewildered.

 

‘I …’ Isak begins, but trails off, his cheeks red from anger or embarrassment, Even’s not sure. Isak stands up, walks to the kitchen window, and looks out onto the street below, then keeps talking, ‘I wanted to … ugh, this sounds ridiculous out loud. I wanted-- I wanted to look good for you.’

 

‘But--’

 

‘I  wanted  to look  good for you.  I’ve never had  abs before? Or biceps,  really. And when I got them,  you didn’t notice. Partly because  you just didn’t notice, and partly  because I was never naked enough for  you to notice.’

 

It takes the breath out of Even, to hear this from his own boyfriend. He wonders how he could have missed this. How he lost sight of so much in so little time.

 

‘And  then I  shaved all  my hair off  because... I don’t  know,’ he says, fiddling with his sleeves, ‘The  curls felt too feminine for suddenly having this  buff body. And you just didn’t comment. So...I mean,  I just thought. You. Didn’t like it. Or something.’

 

Even is shaking his head, baffled, shocked, irritated, and says, ‘What are you talking about--’

 

‘You  just—you  never fucking  noticed!’ Isak shouts. ‘And  I know it sounds stupid but  I missed the you that wouldn’t  take their eyes off me when I walked  in the room. You know? The you that snuck  me into that graveyard and kissed me fucking  breathless. The you that stared me down across  the neon party. And I’ve made concessions—you’re busy,  it’s a stressful time, you’re avoiding triggers—and I backed  off while you had other concerns, but now it’s time, it’s my  turn to say, what the fuck is happening here? Where have you _been_?’

 

Jumping up on his two feet, Even walks over to Isak and holds him with both hands.

 

‘I’m here,’ he says, though he knows it doesn’t mean as much as it should. It just sounds like he’s saying _I can’t help. I can’t reach you_.

 

Isak makes that grimacing face again, the one that he makes when he’s trying not to cry, and he says, ‘I--I’ve been so fucking sad, and so fucking lonely. Whether or not I’m with friends, on my own, or with you. It’s maddening to feel like this all the time, when I’m surrounded by people who care about me, but I still feel more isolated than ever. And then -- and _then_ \-- you go ahead, and make it ten times worse by applying to UiO!’

 

Even takes his hands away and sighs, throwing his head back. ‘Not this argument again.’

 

‘You didn’t even _consider_ applying outside Norway! I can’t help but fear that you’ll regret that, and that you’ll take it out on me for tethering you to Oslo!’

 

‘But I wanted to stay in Oslo,’ Even retorts. ‘ _You’re_ the one who wants to move to London or New York or wherever!’

 

‘I’m not saying I will, I’m saying we should both really consider our options!’ Isak yells back. ‘And why is it you only applied to Oslo, hm? The real reason?’

 

‘Because my life is here!’

 

‘You mean your relationship is here. You’re giving up on opportunities before they even arise. And that fucking terrifies me. Especially when you don’t seem to actually want this!’

 

‘I’m--’ Even starts, and loses all sense of perspective in what they’re doing. ‘I’m so lost, baby. What is this fight really about?’

 

‘Do not baby me! Fuck!’ Isak shouts, pacing across the kitchen, ‘I need you to fucking own up. I’m not ridiculous for feeling this way!’

 

‘How could you doubt me?’ Even asks, the anger rising gain. ‘How could you think I didn’t want you? I never asked you to work yourself like this, shave off your hair -- I couldn’t understand why you wanted to spend all your free time in the fucking gym! And you’re trying to tell me it’s my fault? _My_ fault? That you didn’t tell me any of these fears or anxieties until weeks, _months_ , after the fact! What am I supposed to do about that? I’m not a mindreader Isak!’

 

‘Fuck you, Even!’ Isak cries out.

 

‘Fuck you! I’m not engaging with this bullshit,’ Even says curtly, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair. ‘I’m going out.’

 

‘Fine!’ Isak shouts after him.

 

‘Fine!’ Even yells back, right before he slams the door shut.

 

* * *

 

 

The Oslo fjord is a dusky pink as it approaches midnattsol, and Aker Brygge is still teeming with tourists in the peak of summer. Boats are still leaving for Hovedøya, Lindøya, Nakholmen. Even perches at the end of an empty dock, separate from the crowds, facing out into the sun, where it’s not going to set.

 

He called Mutta as he walked from kollektivet to the harbour, and Mutta listened patiently along to Even’s rambling explanation. He even offered to join him at Aker Brygge. But Even admitted he wanted to just vent and then spend some time on his own. Mutta, kind as always, listened, and pointed out that to a certain extent, they were both right.

 

‘You’ve had an intense relationship, always,’ he said, gently. ‘Maybe… and, feel free to tell me to back off if I’m crossing a line here, maybe the series of obstacles you’ve both had is more to do with how hard and how quickly you’ve both leaned into this. You took no time at all between meeting and hooking up and falling into this serious relationship.’

 

Even wanted to feel annoyed and offended but Mutta’s words hurt only because they rang true. So he shut up and let him continue.

 

‘That kind of vehemence is passionate, sure,’ Mutta continues, ‘but I can only imagine that… well, that it’s why Isak’s grasping for proof that it’s real. Hence the moving-in-together thing. And maybe it’s why you’re so unsure how to communicate with him.’

 

Now, sitting with his feet in the cold waters of the Oslofjord, Even knows in his heart that Mutta’s right. Despite his best intentions, they did go way too fast -- and that if he and Isak are going to work, they have to go slow.

 

The serene deep pink sunlight acts as a balm for his anxieties. And he focuses on that, listening at first to the lapping of the waters against the dock, and then to his music when he needed time in his own world. Soon, it’s midnight, and he knows he needs to go back to kollektivet and start fresh.

 

There’s a duck paddling in the water next to him, and it circles, looking up at him expectantly.

 

‘You want some food?’ Even asks. The duck quacks and circles again.

 

‘I’m sorry, duck,’ he says. ‘I don’t have any.’

 

The duck flaps its wings and suddenly springs up from the water and stands in front of Even. For a moment he’s worried it’s going to attack him, but instead, it ruffles its feathers and squats down, leaning its neck back so it can bury its beak into its chest.

 

It’s an odd moment of peace, for this strange creature to just settle next to him. But he takes it as some kind of good omen, anyway. And then he stands up, and walks back.

 

* * *

 

 

When Isak buzzes him in, he takes his time walking up the stairs. And when he knocks, Isak takes his time coming to the door.

 

But when it finally opens, and Even stands there, looking in at Isak, who’s in his oversized white t-shirt and skimpy blue shorts, he feels the same kind of calm he felt looking at Bakka, at Munch’s grave, at that silly duck.

 

‘Hei,’ he says. ‘I’m an idiot who runs headlong into things way too quickly. You wanna date me again?’

 

Isak pauses, looking first at Even’s shoes, then lets his gaze travel the rest of the way up Even’s body. For someone whose expression is usually so transparent, he masks it well, now. Even can’t figure out what is about to happen next.

 

‘Hei,’ Isak says, and clears his throat when he hears how shot his voice is.

 

He doesn’t say anything after that. Just looks at Even. His eyes seem tired, and his shoulders are slumped, and Even wants to reach out and touch him until he’s unravelled and unrestrained. For a moment, though, Even thinks Isak might kick him out, as the silence just elongates.

 

But then Isak’s mask slips, and Even sees the longing, the relief.

 

‘I’ll always want to date you again,’ Isak says.

 

Even smiles a watery smile and falls into Isak’s embrace.

 

* * *

 

 

‘I never meant to tell you what you think,’ Isak mumbles into Even’s collarbone, licking over a hickey he’s just left there.

 

‘I know you didn’t,’ Even sighs, grasping onto Isak’s t-shirt and running his hands underneath it, touching the warm skin of his back. ‘I love that about you.’

 

Isak kisses his neck, brings a little bit of skin between his teeth, just grazing it, and Even lets out a moan.

 

‘I didn’t want to go to London or America because I’m-- _yes, god_ \-- I’m not confident enough with my English to study there,’ he says, as Isak scrapes his teeth along Even’s Adam’s apple, ‘I always felt I wanted to do my BA in Norway because I want to grasp my subject first, without the language barrier.’

 

Isak tilts his head up and kisses Even on the lips. ‘I understand.’

 

And some time later, when Even’s gotten the rest of their clothes off, quiet and slow, and they’re lying on the bed, Isak pauses to run his fingers down Even’s ribs, feeling the heat of him there. He whispers, like a promise, ‘I don’t mean to pressure you about meeting your family. It’s ok. Really. I got way ahead of myself.’

 

Even smiles up at him, and brings his hands around to Isak’s thighs. ‘About that. I have something to show you.’

 

He turns to the side to get his phone out of his jeans pocket, and opens up the text history with his mama. When Isak reads it, Even points out the date, and the way Isak’s eyes light up is breathtaking.

 

‘You already asked her,’ Isak says, humbled, and Even kisses the corner of his mouth.

 

‘After I saw Åse,’ Even explains. ‘I realised I wanted you to meet them. I want them to meet you. And I want you to meet my sister, so, we might Skype her sometime.’

 

Isak drops the phone on the pile of clothes on the floor and lays out on top of Even. It feels like he’s making sure they’re touching everywhere. He glances his nose off of Even’s, and leaves a string of quick kisses on his mouth.

 

‘That means a lot to me,’ he says, barely a whisper.

 

‘You mean a lot to me,’ Even replies, at the same level, and Isak can’t suppress his eyeroll.

 

‘I was being so sweet and you had to go and out-cheese me,’ he murmurs.

 

Even lightly touches along his legs, his sides, his shoulders with the tips of his fingers. ‘What did you honestly expect,’ he says.

 

‘Nothing less,’ Isak breathes, and kisses Even slow.

 

It’s the slowest Even’s ever gone with someone while being this naked in a bed. His body has the impulse to push and scrape and quicken, but he tries to ease into the vulnerability of it, the smooth all-encompassing affection of being so intimate with Isak, in a way he’s never experienced before.

 

‘We don’t have to do anything,’ Even says, as a reassurance, hoping he’s not killed the mood, now, if Isak did want to go further.

 

‘I know,’ Isak replies simply, and kisses Even’s neck again. It makes all the hairs on his body stand up, and he raises his knees to clasp Isak closer to him. But he doesn’t stop lightly caressing every part of Isak’s skin he can reach with his hands. He revels in watching the goosebumps follow his fingers.

 

Neither of them know how long they lie there just breathing each other in, occasionally glancing a touch over somewhere sensitive, gazing at each other silently: those looks nearly break Even in half. He feels more exposed than ever, underneath Isak, drinking in the sight of him.

 

He wants to reassure him, too, as he remembers what brought them here; so he moves both hands up to Isak’s head, and caresses his fingers along the short buzzcut there. It’s a little prickly, but still pleasant.

 

Isak pulls back from Even’s nipple as he feels the new direction of Even’s hands. When he looks up, he asks quietly, ‘Do you really like it? Just tell me. I won’t be upset, I just want to know.’

 

It’s a simple question, and one that Even wishes he didn’t need to ask. But there’s a confidence in Isak’s voice that tells him he isn’t hurt, he’s curious. So Even decides to trust it.

 

‘I miss the curls,’ he answers, truthfully. ‘But I love how it accentuates your features. And I love the bravery it must have taken for you to do something so drastic.’

 

Isak smiles crookedly at him, and runs his fingers through Even’s hair, unstyled and falling around his face. ‘You leave this crop any longer and you’ll have a man bun,’ he jokes.

 

‘How would you feel about that?’ Even asks, interested.

 

But Isak smirks again and shrugs. ‘As long as you still make me breakfast in the morning, I won’t care.’

 

‘I’ll hold you to that,’ he mumbles, too distracted by Isak’s lips not to kiss them.

 

And some time later, Isak’s breathing gets heavier just from Even’s touches. He starts to shiver and pant against Even’s shoulder, murmuring _yes_ and _Even_ in a tone that’s unmistakeable.

 

But when Even shifts them around, he doesn’t pick up the pace. He whispers _let’s go slow_ into Isak’s ear, and makes sure his hands have paid attention to every single inch of Isak’s body. His sternum, the insides of his ankles, the dip between his hips, the backs of his elbows, up around his shoulders. All he can hear is the overly controlled breathing and the soft sound of skin caressing skin.

 

Until Isak grips his arms with intent, and looks up at him through lidded eyes, and mouths, _Touch me more._

 

Even is overcome with feeling, and laces his fingers with Isak’s, pushing their hands into the mattress, as he leans down and kisses him full and square and deep, licking slowly into his mouth, and giving up on trying to hold back. Isak bends up into him, pants around his tongue, sucks on his bottom lip, and whispers, _You make me feel so good._

 

Even smiles and kisses him quickly, then breathes back, _That’s what you do to me._

 

Isak huffs a laugh mid-kiss and says, ‘Ok great, would you please put a condom on now?’

 

Laughing at Isak’s playfulness, Even rolls them over and puts his hands on Isak’s jaw and shoulder, curling his fingers around his neck and bringing him closer. At the last second, he drops his head and kisses Isak’s neck, while he widens his legs, forcing Isak to spread his own across Even’s hips.

 

It’s tender, how Isak whines a little at the feeling, and then lets his weight fall more on top of Even, leaning back ‘til he’s sitting upright, his fingers resting on Even’s chest. For just a moment, Even enjoys the sight of him, flushed and relaxed and confident, sitting on Even’s erection without blinking an eye, staying there because he belongs there. Because Even is more than happy for Isak to lay claim to each part of his body, and stare him down while he does it.

 

Even takes hold of one of Isak’s hands, brings it to his mouth, and kisses each of his fingertips, then the pad of his thumb, and Isak holds it to Even’s lip, flicking at it, mesmerized by the sight.

 

It’s a rush, to feel how tiny this bed is, and how huge the world is. How the four corners of their mattress seem to fill universes.

 

Even senses it in the way Isak trembles as he sinks into him, in the way they both sit upright to hold each other close, in the way he can only think of what the next minute will bring, because every second before that feels infinite.

 

The duvet has fallen to the ground, and Isak’s knees slip on the wet sheets. A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and Even doesn’t think before kissing it. He wishes the window was open to let any kind of air in, because they’re both sweating from the drawn-out pleasure. Still, the fact that Isak’s skin is almost too hot to touch centres Even. It settles something primal in him, knowing how turned on Isak is.

 

They’re both so worked up that Isak’s hands can’t quite grip Even’s back now, either, so he reaches up behind and pulls on his shoulders, dropping his face into Even’s neck when they fall into a gentle rhythm, grinding slowly in a steady motion. It’s a constant movement, and Even’s long since lost feeling in his legs, focusing only on matching Isak’s pace, kissing promises into his chest, sighing and moaning and breathing every moment of pleasure.

 

When Isak’s fingers knot into Even’s hair, he knows they’re close. Isak is letting out a constant string of sounds, now, each one tender and explicit and heavy. Softly, Even drags his hands along Isak’s thighs until they’re spread on his groin, either side of his gorgeous, hard dick, red and erect against his abs.

 

He doesn’t touch it at first. He focuses instead on keeping time with Isak tilting his hips up, making sure he grinds at the right pace, though his lower back is in agony. Then Isak whines a little, and pulls Even’s hair when he clenches his fists, muttering, ‘ _Even_ … fuck, I … I’m …’

 

Even presses his thumbs down on Isak’s skin, putting pressure on both sides of Isak’s prostate, which he knows is sensitive now after so much stimulation -- as soon as he does, Isak makes a noise he’s never made before, something between a cry and a whimper. It sends Even to a new high, hearing Isak like that.

 

‘Do that again,’ Isak chokes out, still riding Even like he won’t ever stop. His thighs are straining from being in this position so long, and his abs are tense under Even’s hands. But the fire in his eyes is unyielding. Even can’t look away, he’s obsessed with how much this is affecting Isak, but then Isak brings his hands around to Even’s face, and tilts it up to his, leaving a breathless kiss on his lips.

 

‘One-- one more time,’ Isak sighs, and then moans when Even starts to softly glance the edges of his thumbs off of Isak’s dick. So, at Isak’s command, Even kisses him, and he moves his hands just an inch further down, before pressing his thumbs in, _hard_ , and Isak’s breath cuts off.

 

Suddenly, Isak’s coming.

 

It’s just a few spurts at first, but then more and more come appears, and it’s not spurting but dribbling out, dripping down around his shaft, down to his balls, and yet he still manages to come a little more.

 

As soon as it touches Even’s stomach, his climax blindsides him. His body convulses with the impact, and he realises a second later that he’s having his first whole-body orgasm. He’s shivering and trembling and the pleasure is wracking through him like it won’t ever stop.

 

He’s entangled with Isak so much that he doesn’t know how they’ll separate. But he finds solace in the way they’ve curved into each other, and how Isak’s hands aren’t fisted now, but rubbing the tension out of Even’s neck. Isak leaves soft kisses on his jaw, his cheek, his temple, as Even comes back down from his high. And he swears he’s never letting this boy go if he can help it.

 

‘You got cum everywhere,’ Even mumbles. It’s meant to be a reprimand, but somehow he just sounds impressed.

 

‘I did,’ Isak agrees, sleepily, nodding against Even’s collarbone. ‘You like it.’

 

‘Yeah I do,’ Even admits, lightly moving his fingers up and down Isak’s thighs.

 

They kiss again, and Even can’t remember the last time he kissed Isak this much. He feels an overwhelming wave of gratitude and affection and love as their lips meet again, and it’s not long before they fall back into the bed, sated and sleepy and comforted within the four corners of their world.

 

* * *

 

 

A few nights later, it’s Wednesday night, and Even can’t understand where the time has gone. Because he’s currently bringing Isak back to his parents’ house. For the first time. Not just Isak, either, but a _man_. It’s somehow ironic that he expected Isak to panic but instead Even is the one riddled with anxiety.

 

Isak is fully prepared, and had already bought a small bouquet and wrangled some homemade serinakaker (courtesy of Eskild) for his mama, and sourced a nice bottle of cognac for his pappa. He’s ironed a white shirt and his navy slacks, paired with his black dress shoes.

 

When Even saw him in his outfit, he was blown away by how smooth and sophisticated he looked. He could barely believe this was his boyfriend, someone he was allowed to touch and kiss and hold close when he slept. He looked like he should be modelling somewhere.

 

As they approach Even’s house, his anxiety filters into every thing he does and says as he makes stilted introductions and tells Isak where the bathroom is. But it soon becomes clear that his parents are going all out: his mama has laid on a full three-course meal, while his pappa asks Isak about his studies and his hobbies, and then tells Isak all about Even and Astrid’s embarrassing childhood hijinks. And Even’s surprised to notice that his parents are a little on edge, as if nervous to meet Isak, too. But from the moment Isak enters, he is taken care of and entertained, and once Even’s own worry subsides, he is beaming with pride, not just for Isak, but for his parents.

 

‘Asbjørn, stop embarrassing him,’ his mama laughs, as she waves her dessert fork and tries to curb her laughter.

 

Isak is grinning too, enjoying the story far too much, as Even groans into his palms.

 

‘It’s true!’ his papa retorts. ‘He wasn’t any older than 4, Isak, and he just walked downstairs, into the living room -- though that was where Sigrid served breakfast to the guests back when this was a B&B -- naked as the day he was born. Isn’t that right?’

 

‘Papa,’ Even complains. They’ve already shown Isak some of the dumb baby photos and the truly cringeworthy school photos from Bjølsen.

 

‘Well, I’m just saying. You apparently have a habit of seeking breakfast when you’re in the nip,’ his papa retorts, and Even drops his knife in shock.

 

‘Did you--’

 

But that’s when his mama starts to chuckle, prompting Asbjørn to laugh, and then Isak lets out a ‘ _pfffft_ ’ and joins in the giggling aswell.

 

 _Did they really just crack a joke about my streaking episode?_ Even can’t find it in himself to be offended, he’s just astonished. He never thought his parents would be able to laugh about it. But here they are, giggling with his boyfriend. The 180-turn is giving him whiplash.

 

‘It’s good to laugh about it,’ his mama admits. ‘Because now I remember that stunt you pulled as a kid, it makes a lot more sense.’ And she falls into fits of laughter again.

 

That’s when Even starts to realise that maybe it’s as important for his parents to meet Isak as it is for him. They were trying to be there for him, ever since his diagnosis, and had done everything in their power to support him in school, to give him freedom and encouragement.

 

He begins to understand that as much as he thought he was protecting himself by not sharing more of his identity with them, it might have hurt them to know he had been hiding: maybe it was more difficult for them to support him when they were kept in the dark.

 

As Even looks around the table, he sees the genuine smiles on his parents’ faces, and his mama’s left hand in his papa’s right. _There it is_ , he thinks. _They really are trying._

 

So, Even joins in, and jokes, ‘I did not consent to being roasted when I brought Isak here tonight.’

 

‘Buck up, honey,’ his mama says happily, ‘we’ve got twenty years of stories to catch Isak up on.’

 

And when Isak squeezes his hand under the table, slipping him a sly smirk, Even can’t complain. Not one bit.

 

* * *

 

 

Some time later, they move to the living room, where Asbjørn pours Isak a beer and gently enquires about Isak’s family. Even’s almost moved to tears when Isak unselfconsciously explains his mama’s mental health, his sister’s escapist move to Berlin, his papa’s compulsive lying and irredeemable abandonment of a young son at 15. But then Isak talks about how things have improved, how his mama is faring better now she’s at home, how his papa has educated himself about gender and sexualities, how he’s reached out to his sister again. And he mentions that they asked about going to the Oslo Pride parade with him.

 

‘Can parents do that? Even when they’re … you know?’ Sigrid asks. Even has to stop himself from laughing at her enthusiasm, and her ignorance.

 

‘Yes, absolutely,’ Isak says, ‘it’s really common. And encouraged. Sometimes queer kids find it really difficult if they come from families who don’t fully support them. So, it’s nice to see parents cheering on their kids at Pride.’

 

Sigrid glances at Asbjørn and smiles. Even knows what’s coming next, and he can barely contain himself with the quiet hope.

 

Asbjørn slams his hand down on the table and says, ‘Well, Even. How would you like your mama and I to go to the Pride parade with you?’

 

Isak reaches out a hand and grips Even’s knee. He knows how big a moment this is. And Even knows he’ll cry with happiness when it finally catches up to him later. But for now, he nods and says, ‘Yeah. That would be great, papa.’

 

* * *

 

 

When Isak leaves Even’s house that night after dinner, Even asks if he wants company back to kollektivet.

 

‘No, I’ll be fine. I think it’ll be nice for you to get a chance to talk to your parents about me. Get the full story,’ he says, with a smug wink.

 

Even smiles back at him. ‘You charmed them better than you charmed me. How is that, exactly?’

 

Isak shrugs and looks off into the distance, purely for effect. Even knows he’s playing up for the joke. ‘I’m just that good,’ Isak says, indifferently, and Even has to push him a little on the shoulder in protest.

 

‘Get over yourself,’ he says, rolling his eyes.

 

Seeing Isak enjoy himself this much, especially after such a potentially dire situation, fills Even with glee. He feels victorious, like they managed to dodge a bullet and win the lottery at the same time.

 

‘Hey,’ he says, gently. ‘You were wonderful, tonight. As you always are. And they see that.’

 

At Even’s sincerity, Isak softens a bit, and he reaches out for Even’s hand. His touch gets Even wound up, still, and he hopes that feeling never goes away.

 

‘I’m really happy I got to meet them. And that they accept you now. All of you. It’s what you deserve,’ Isak says, fervently, and Even has to kiss him.

 

‘Were they serious, by the way?’ Isak asks. ‘About Pride?’

 

Even smiles. ‘Yeah. I think they were.’

 

‘It would be incredible if they did go,’ Isak says, ‘Can you imagine our parents, all four of them? At _Pride_?’

 

Even squeezes Isak’s hands for a moment, and then kisses his forehead. ‘I can’t wait.’ Then he leans in and kisses Isak properly, getting a sweet nibble on his bottom lip as reward.

 

‘We’ll Skype Astrid next weekend, ok?’ Even says as he pulls back.

 

‘Perfect,’ Isak says, and then he pulls out of the moment of vulnerability, and slaps Even on the ass. He ignores Even’s protest, winks at him, and then struts away.

 

Even has to watch him go, as he realises, Isak doesn’t walk anymore. He struts. Ridiculous as the notion is, it’s sweet and enduring. Isak walks with his head held high. And Even will do his best to do that, too.

 

* * *

 

 

The next week is full of more final exams, but Even doesn’t let himself drown in them. He trusts the work he’s put in, he leans into his instincts, and prioritises his routine instead of cramming in last-minute study sessions on the lymphatic system, or integration, or the perfect present tense.

 

And when he walks out of his history exam the following Friday, he basks in the liberation of knowing he only has one final left, the following week, but the next 24 hours is solely dedicated to Pride. First the kollektiv are hosting a Pride party that night, with all their extended friends, and the next morning they’re all going out for breakfast in Grønland, before the Parade starts at 1pm.

 

The Bakka groupchat is overloading his phone with notifications about who’s buying beer and who’s going to the kollektivet _vors_ first, but he skips it when he notices he’s been added to another group chat:

 

**gays only event**

 

 _Isak:_  
_really appreciate how you asked my permission_  
_before you subjected my boyfriend to this_ _  
thanks eskild_

 

 _Eskild:_  
_there’s honestly no reason for you to_  
_still be so grumpy this far past the_ _  
morning, baby gay_

 

_Linn:_

_hei can someone bring me_ _  
_ _a sandwich? i’m too comfortable to move_

 

_Eskild:_

_i’ll never understand how you’re a capricorn, linn_

_i just cannot understand it_

 

_Linn:_

_huh?_

 

_Eskild:_

_your adherence to your bed and your routine_ _  
_ _just has the word TAURUS written all over it_

 

_Linn:_

_ok_

_so the sandwich_

 

_Isak:_

_i’m making one now, i’ll bring it to you_

 

_Isak:_

_btw hei even_

_welcome to kollektivet group chat_

  
  
_Eskild:_ _  
_ yes hei even!!

_back me up on the taurus thing_

 

Even has to laugh. And he smiles at being included in the kollektivet like this. Then again, he has stayed over often enough now that Eskild is probably keen to actually speak to him rather than just hear him through the walls.

 

_Even:_

_I mean, capricorn and taurus_

_are both earth signs_

 

_Eskild:_

_ever the diplomat, you_

 

_Even:_

_the Bakka boys are chomping at the_  
_bit to party with you guys_ _  
what time should i tell them to come?_

 

_Linn:_

_i want at least an hour of peace_ _  
_ _before the mayhem_

 

_Eskild:_

_NOW_

 

_Isak:_

_ignore them both. Tell the guys_ _  
_ _to come around 8_

 

_Isak:_

_but you can come whenever_

 

_Eskild:_

_i don’t think Even needs that reminder_

_💦_

_💦_

_💦_

 

_Isak:_

_I’m ignoring you_

 

_Isak:_

_Even, you can COME OVER whenever you want_

 

_Isak:_

_And then COME everywhere with your CUM_

 

_Isak:_

_CUM CUM CUM_

 

_Isak:_

_CUM_

 

_Isak:_

_CUM_

 

_Isak:_

_CUM_

 

_Eskild:_

_sigh. now you’ve taken the fun out of it_

 

_Isak:_

_K good_

 

_Even:_

_I’ll come as quick as I can_

 

_Isak:_

_Eskild if you say one word_

 

_Eskild:_

_One word_

 

_Isak:_

_UGH_

_bye_

 

* * *

 

 

Light and free. That’s how it feels to stand in a room of people you love and not be weighed down by fear or secrets. Even is light, and free.

 

He catches up with Mikael and Mahdi, still joined at the hip, and he’s mildly surprised to discover they’re living in a fully domestic Dom/sub relationship, which they’re becoming more comfortable sharing in public, too. Mikael laps up Mahdi’s praise and enjoys following his instructions to squat or kneel or get drinks. Somehow after the initial surprise, it doesn’t hugely shock Even that that’s their dynamic, but when he casually mentions it to Isak, he has to laugh at the way Isak’s eyes go wide.

 

‘You mean like…’ he trails off, seemingly unsure how to verbalise it.

 

‘Mahdi is their Dom, and Mikael is his sub. So, they have a kind of master/servant thing,’ Even explains.

 

Isak’s mouth hangs open and Even smirks as he puts a finger under Isak’s chin and pushes it up. The annoyed frown he gets in response is too cute to be intimidated by.

 

‘What are you thinking?’ Even asks, ‘This can’t be the first you’ve heard of d/s relationships. Plus, didn’t Mahdi tell you he was wearing a leather harness and hotpants to the parade? It’s kind of a major dom move.’

 

‘Yeah…’ Isak says, defensively. ‘I-- It’s just… I don’t know. I haven’t thought that much about dom/sub stuff.’

 

‘You haven’t?’ Even asks. ‘But you switch between them all the time.’

 

‘Huh?’

 

‘When we first hooked up, remember you told me about your fantasy of tying me up? That’s like D/S 101. And you told me _while_ fingering me.’

 

Isak hushes him and looks around. ‘Even! Not so loud.’

 

Even ignores that and continues, ‘You remember how you asked “do you want it”? And I said yes, but then you whispered into my ear, “I said, do you want it, baby” and then of course I came _immediately_? That was an incredibly good dom move.’

 

‘Oh,’ Isak says. ‘I … I just never thought about it like that.’

 

He stares off towards Mahdi and Mikael, seemingly lost in thought, and after a few moments, Even nudges him and asks, ‘Are you into it?’

 

Isak snaps his attention back to Even and shrugs. ‘I don’t know, honestly. Maybe. But I don’t know if I’d want to be the sub or the dom.’

 

‘It doesn’t have to be absolute. We can switch it around. See what works. It’s really just a pleasure thing, so it depends on what we both like.’

 

Isak quirks and eyebrow and smiles smugly. ‘Yeah, alright.’

 

And that sits at the front of Even’s mind all night.

 

* * *

 

 

The party gives Even a chance to catch up with everyone else he’s missed in the midst of finals and work and his ups and downs with Isak. When he spots Eva and Noora arriving, he immediately goes over and gives them both a hug to ask how the new apartment is working out.

 

Noora rolls her eyes and folds her arms while Eva says, ‘ _I_ think it’s perfect just as it is.’

 

‘Just because you sleep without blackout blinds doesn’t mean I have to!’

 

‘It’s better for the plants,’ Eva explains, ‘and it’s better for us, too.’

 

‘Not when I’m woken up by midnattsol at 4am, it isn’t,’ Noora argues.

 

Even kicks in, ‘You could put the plants on the outside of the blinds? That way they still get light while Noora gets sleep?’

 

The two girls look at him blankly before Eva bursts out laughing. ‘Oh shit, why didn’t we think of that?’

 

Noora throws her hands up in exasperation. ‘I told you to do that last week! But you didn’t listen!’

 

At that, Isak sidles over and wraps an arm around Eva’s shoulders. She glances back to see who it is, and when she recognises him, her face breaks into a wide smile.

 

‘Are you terrorising your girlfriend again?’ he asks, leaving a kiss on Eva’s cheek.

 

‘Yes,’ Noora replies, exasperated, though she can’t suppress her big smile.

 

‘No,’ Eva says at the same time, and laughs. ‘I just like how she looks when she’s asleep and the sunlight makes her hair look like it’s glowing.’

 

Noora’s face falls at that and she gazes adoringly at Eva, while Isak groans and takes his arm away. ‘You’re worse than Even, I swear.’

 

‘What did I do?!’ Even asks, and Isak waves his hand at him as he goes into the kitchen for more beer.

 

‘I’m glad you two worked it out,’ Noora says, as she wraps an arm around Eva’s waist.

 

‘Me too,’ Even says, his eyes still following Isak’s back through the room. As Isak disappears into the kitchen, Even feels another gaze on him, and he glances over to find Mikael looking in his direction.

 

Mikael is sitting on the arm of the chair next to Mahdi, but they pull their phone out and soon Even’s phone buzzes in his pocket.

 

 

**Mika**

 

_Hei_

_You have 5 minutes for a distraction?_

🌬️🌪️

 

_Sure thing_

 

* * *

 

 

‘I feel like I’ve barely seen you, man,’ Mikael admits, as they light up the joint. ‘Not to guilt you or anything. Just, it’s nice to have 1-on-1 time.’

 

‘I know. _Shukran_ ,’ Even says, as Mika passes him the joint. He takes a deep inhale and enjoys the slight burn in his throat, and the rasp of the smoke as he breathes out.

 

‘How are you feeling about going tomorrow?’ Even asks.

 

‘Good,’ Mikael says. ‘I’ve got my nonbinary flag ready, and I’ll suck up not actually liking yellow or purple for the sake of representation.’

 

‘So you want a white and black flag?’ Even asks, baffled.

 

‘I mean I thought about bringing my bi flag, but I said I’d lend it to Eva for the day. Besides, I kinda want to prioritise the gender thing instead of the sexuality thing. That’s why Mahdi bought me a t-shirt that just says “They” on it,’ Mikael said with a chuckle.

 

‘He did?’

 

‘Yeah,’ Mikael says, with a small grin.

 

Even smiles back at them and then gives them a hug. ‘You guys seem good together,’ he murmurs.

 

‘You and Isak, too,’ Mikael replies. ‘Everything good, there, by the way? Mutta mentioned there might be trouble in paradise.’

 

Even pulls back and hands the joint to them. ‘We had some miscommunications to clear up. Long overdue. We both just let time slip by and then suddenly it was all a much bigger deal than it should have been.’

 

‘Ah,’ Mikael says. ‘Well, I’m glad you sorted it out.’

 

‘I’m starting to realise that this whole self-development thing is in constant motion,’ Even sighs. ‘And we’re both gonna have to get better at communicating, and being direct, and not rushing all the time.’

 

‘Sounds like a pretty nice thing to worry about, honestly,’ Mikael jokes, and Even has to laugh along with them.

 

‘I know, right? I’m moaning about being in love, it’s ridiculous.’

 

‘This whole conversation is far too adult, really,’ they say, passing the joint back to Even.

 

‘Yeah,’ he says, taking a long drag, ‘That was part of the problem, actually.’

 

‘Hm?’

 

‘Isak’s lease at the kollektiv was approaching and … he wanted us to move in together, somewhere new. I did not understand at all, because he worded it so vaguely, and we’d only been dating a few months. But, yeah. Part of the issue was that we’ve both kind of sprinted head-long into this relationship and now we’re trying to be a bit more level-headed about it.’

 

Mikael takes the joint from Even and they raise their eyebrows too, asking, ‘Really? Moving in together?’

 

‘I think we will, eventually. Just. Not right now,’ Even admits. ‘It entered Isak’s head because I was gonna be moving out of home to go to UiO, and his lease was ending. But anyway.’

 

Mikael takes another drag and then passes the joint back. As they exhale, they say, ‘I mean. Just because it won’t happen right now doesn’t mean you both have to blacklist the idea.’

 

‘What do you mean?’

 

‘Like. Make a plan that you might move in together at a certain date. You know, have something to look forward to? And that you’ve both agreed upon as a commitment. That way, you’re being responsible AND romantic at the same time. And I know how you love that shit.’

 

Even looks at Mikael, as they finish the joint, and then smiles. He’s thrilled with that idea. And he’s so glad that he and Mikael have reached a point where they can really be friends. It’s been a long time coming, but here they are, swapping a joint and supporting each other, like old times.

 

‘Habibi,’ he says, ‘You’re a treasure.’

 

‘I know,’ Mikael replies, shrugging. Their phone pings, and Even sees Mahdi’s name come up on the screen, followed by three love hearts.

 

‘Ah, is Master calling?’ Even teases.

 

Mikael blushes and shrugs again. ‘He’s just wondering where I am.’

 

‘How is all that working out, by the way?’ Even asks.

 

‘So good,’ Mikael says, in a breathy, contented sigh. ‘So, so, _so_ good.’

 

‘Ok!’ Even says, ‘jeez, I wasn’t asking for the gory details. Just …’

 

‘...Just what? Are you curious about how it works? Or… are you _and Isak_ curious?’

 

Even blushes, now, seemingly unable to stop at the reminder that Isak might be into it, or at the notion of doing as he’s told, following Even’s fantasies. Maybe Isak would order Even around on his own. And that gets Even going instantly.

 

‘Wow,’ Mikael laughs. ‘You are… absolutely transparent, you know.’

 

They’re both getting a little chilly now, in the cool air outside, and Even notices even as they both laugh that they’re fidgeting a bit to keep warm.

 

‘Should we head back inside?’

 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Mikael says, ‘Coward. Just ask me when you’re ready.’

 

Even gives them the middle finger as they go back inside, and the short walk back up to kollektivet has him imagining Isak waiting on his knees at Even’s command.

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the party is everything Even asked for. He catches up with Jonas and Magnus, as well as Sana, Vilde and Chris: he learns about their plans for summer, their attempts to get Magnus laid again, their excitement for Isak’s parents to go to Pride. At a lull in the conversation, Even wordlessly gives Sana a side hug and a kiss on the temple. She doesn’t ask why; he knows she doesn’t need to.

 

He doesn’t stay up too long, as the exhaustion from the week starts to catch up with him, and around 1am, he gently touches Isak’s arm and murmurs that he’s going to bed.

 

Isak nods and leaves a kiss on his cheek, saying he won’t be too long joining him.

 

And sometime later, when Even’s already fallen asleep on the blue pillow, he’s stirred back into a semi-consciousness as he feels warm breath at the back of his neck, a hand spreading over his ribs, knees tucking in behind his own, and a few soft words, _Go to sleep, baby_.

 

When Even turns over and says, ‘Want to move in with me next June?,’ Isak does a double-take.

 

‘What?’ he asks, incredulous.

 

‘We can’t move in together now,’ Even whispers. ‘But after my first year in UiO I’ll probably be sick to death of student housing. What do you think?’

 

‘You…’ Isak says, at a loss for words. ‘You think we’ll last that long?’

 

Even smiles back, stroking his fingers through Isak’s hair. ‘Well, let’s move in together anyway. We’ll probably end up dating again if we break up.’

 

Isak frowns, even as he laughs, and dips his face into the pillow. But Even knows this is important, so he tips Isak’s chin up and kisses him lightly on the lips.

 

‘Just something to think about,’ he says. ‘Besides. Then we could really explore this d/s thing you’re so intrigued by.’

 

And the way Isak blushes just makes Even dizzy with happiness.

 

* * *

 

 

Pride.

 

That’s the first word Even thinks of as he wakes up. The excitement starts to course through him as he remembers what today is about.

 

A celebration of bravery, fortitude, tenacity. A constant challenge to normativity, to being controlled, to shame.

 

It’s a day for dignity and identity and visibility. And Even’s heart is beating so loudly just thinking about sharing it with his friends, his boyfriend, and his parents. As well as the rest of Oslo.

 

It’s his first Pride, and Isak’s too. And he wants to mark the importance of it in its own right, as well as in their lives. So, he rolls over and kisses Isak on the forehead, whispers a small _Good morning_ to which Isak barely responds. Then, Even slips out of bed, finds his phone, puts it to a quiet volume, and starts playing his Pride playlist.

 

The first song is Queen’s _I Want to Break Free_ and he smiles to himself at its aptness. The opening notes of electronic organ, followed by the synth keyboard and heavy drum beat, are not the ideal aubade, but Even can’t fault the logic of starting their first Pride with this song.

 

Isak turns over and cracks an eye open when the lyrics start, at which Even puts the volume on his phone to the highest, and starts singing along and dancing around the bed, in just his boxers. When the second verse starts -- _I’ve fallen in love_ \-- he jumps on the bed, kneeling on either side of Isak’s hips and singing into an air mic, while Isak swats at him and covers his eyes with his arms.

 

 _It’s strange but it’s true, hey, I can’t get over the way you like me like you do_ \-- and Even is pinning Isak’s hands to the mattress, leaving laughing kisses along his neck. Then, from the kitchen, they hear someone battering a saucepan with what sounds like a wooden spoon, and Eskild shouting at the top of his lungs,

 

‘Oh, how I want to be free, baby! Oh, how I want to be free. Oh! How I want to break free!’

 

When they realise they’ve announced to the entire flat that they’re awake and singing Queen, they both devolve into raucous laughter, and Even just holds a sleep-warm Isak in his arms while they giggle in the bright morning sunshine.

 

It’s a morning he knows he’ll keep in his heart for the rest of his life.

 

Linn knocks on their door, then, and says, deadpan, ‘Hey. Queen tributes. Freddie’s making coffee. Get up already.’

 

Isak and Even share a pointed look for a moment and then Isak asks, ‘If Eskild is Freddie, who does that make us?’

 

‘I don’t care,’ Linn answers, her voice already moving down the hallway, ‘I was told to get you, so.’

 

Even laughs and shouts out ‘Takk!’ before rolling off of Isak and throwing one of his t-shirts on.

 

‘We have a few hours before we have to head to Grønland, and I want to show you something,’ he says, while gathering up a towel on the radiator and heading to the bathroom.

 

‘Alright. But only if we can shower together,’ Isak says, petulantly.

 

‘Nope,’ Even replies, ‘We’ll take too long. C’mon, up. I’m showering first.’

 

It’s Pride, though, so Even concedes a quick dryriding session as a reward for getting ready in under ten minutes.

 

* * *

 

 

‘Even, this is the opposite direction from Grønland,’ Isak complains, ‘And we’ve been walking for twenty minutes. What could we want in Fagerborg?’

 

He’s surprised Isak hasn’t figured it out. Then again, maybe Isak doesn’t know about what’s in the shadow of Fagerborg Church. All the more reason to bring him there.

 

‘Have you ever heard of Kjærlighetskarusellen?’ Even asks.

 

‘The Carousel of Love?’ Isak repeats, baffled. ‘No. Are you bringing me to a funfair?’

 

‘Nope,’ Even says, as they turn onto Sporveisgata. ‘I’m bringing you to something much more important.’

 

And as they approach the small round steel structure, Even feels that profound sense of humility and slight fear, as if he’s bringing Isak here back in 1970, for all the reasons that he is glad they live _now_.

 

‘You brought me to a urinal? Even?’ Isak asks, impatient and confused.

 

‘It’s Oslo Pride today. I wanted us to do something to mark how it’s not just a big party, but a really significant show of strength and inclusivity. The first Pride was a riot. And I don’t want us to lose sight of that,’ he says, quietly.

 

Isak notes the shift in Even’s demeanour and moves closer to him, winding an arm around his waist.

 

‘The first Oslo Pride was 1982. Ten years after they decriminalised homosexuality,’ Isak murmurs into Even’s shoulder. ‘I’ve always wondered why it took them ten years to host a parade.’

 

‘We’re about to find out,’ Even says, solemnly, leading Isak by the hand into the Kjærlighetskarusell.

 

Though it’s open-air and clearly out of use -- since being made a Cultural Heritage Site in 2009, according to the plaque outside -- it still smells faintly of piss, and the walls inside are still covered in scratched, painted, proliferated words.

 

‘Was this an old cruising site?’ Isak asks, barely a whisper.

 

Even nods in response, and holds Isak’s hand tighter, as they look around at the forty-year old museum of lonely, angry, oppressed, tenacious hearts. ‘Yeah.’

 

Everything is on those walls, from black marker, to what looks like engravings from keys, to questionable stains, to spraypaint:

 

 

_RIP Terje_

_Lost to the virus_

_1/5/1983_

_We remember you here_

 

_Love is for fools / fools are for love / love is for suckers / suck is for lovers_

 

 

 

_FAGS OF FAGERBORG UNITE_

 

_Call this number if you want your cock sucked_

 

 

 

_Start by admitting from cradle to tomb_

_Isn't that long a stay_

_Life is a cabaret, old chum_

_It's only a cabaret, old chum_

_And I love a cabaret_

 

 

 

_I’d like to talk to you._

 

 

_Lucas was here. So was Elliott. <3 _

 

 

_FUCK PER BORTEN AND HIS PUSSY GOVERNMENT_

 

 

_Peace, love, and fuck me_

 

 

_You're headed for disaster_

_'Cause you never read the signs_

_Too much love will kill you - every time_

 

_LONG LIVE FRIENDS OF DOROTHY_

_BUT FUCK THE MAN_

_PULLING THE STRINGS_

_BEHIND THE CURTAIN_

 

 

 

_Tired of the beatings_

_Tired of the hate_

_Tired of the ignorance_

_So I sit here and wait_

_Our day will come_

_Our day will come_

_God hates fags_

_But god love us, someday, our day will come_

 

 

_I wish I wasn’t so alone_

.

.

.

.

 

‘Oh my--’ Isak whispers, tracing his fingers along the voices from the past. ‘I-- I had no idea this was here.’

 

Even moves behind him and leaves a kiss on the nape of his neck. ‘I knew about it,’ he admits, ‘but I never came here. I knew it wouldn’t be… well. It’s not a happy place.’

 

They stand there for some time in reverent silence, and read the innumerable personal outpourings from men just like them, the marginalised and forgotten, the desperate and the despairing, the proud and the flagrant.

 

‘I disagree,’ Isak says, finally, his voice muted. ‘I see a lot of hope here, even in the loneliness and the anguish. Look…’ he says, pointing at a little message inside a faded pink triangle of spraypaint:

 

_We won’t always be in the dark_

 

Despite how tender it is, how sweet and hopeful, the small admission snaps something in Even, and the tears spring from the corners of his eyes without him trying.

 

Isak hears him sniff and looks back, then guides Even into his arms. They hug until they both calm somewhat. Then Even leans out of the embrace and kisses Isak full and deep on the lips.

 

‘I’m so proud of you,’ he says, sincerity bleeding through his voice. ‘Proud of both of us.’

 

Isak draws his eyebrows together as his eyes become glassy with suppressed tears, and he kisses Even back, holding his face in both hands.

 

* * *

 

They don’t talk about it, but they both think of Kjærlighetskarusellen for the rest of the day, and there’s a little bit of it etched on both their hearts in the days to come.

 

When they go to the Pride parade later that afternoon, surrounded by their friends, their family,  and what feels like half the country, they each chant at the top of their lungs, more thankful than ever.

 

They’re not alone. They never will be.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end of an era. This fic was my first ever, and it's taken me nearly a year to finish it. I posted the first chapter on 14 Feb 2018, and now I'm posting the last. This fic got me through some truly rough times, and I'm so happy for all the friends I made because of it. And I'm so happy I know this fandom. 
> 
> Thank you if you've come this far, and thank you to everyone who's ever left kudos or comments, or encouraged me not to give up on it. This last chapter has some surprises, I know, and an obvious credit to Fxckxxp and their amazing fic A Silky Nightmare (which you all must read): https://archiveofourown.org/works/13842234?view_full_work=true
> 
> I'm afraid I've never been to Kjaerlighetskarusellen so the graffiti is entirely fictional. But the history isn't. 
> 
> Alt er love. Takk for alt. <3


End file.
